


How To Say Goodbye

by thatdameoverthere



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Monster Frisk, Pre-War, Time Travel, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdameoverthere/pseuds/thatdameoverthere
Summary: The Demon is dead. They have won.Now, tired and battered and ready for tomorrow, Frisk and Flowey Reset.The Last Reset.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is by no means a definite thing. i'm posting the first four chapters of this story to see what people think while i write the rest. I'm writing this for me, because this is the sort of story i want to read but haven't found. with all hopes this will be a 3 book series, with a prequel planned.
> 
> have fun!

Frisk stared at their tingling fingers. It's still fascinating, if a little macabre, the effects determination and magic had on her body. It wasn't like before the fight, she had used up all the magic she and Flowey had gathered over their Runs to finally defeat the Demon. Now only her own accumulative determination burned through her body, fire in her veins.

"It doesn’t feel like we won."

Frisk glanced up at Flowey, dragging her hand through the ash and dirt to gently rest her fingers around his stem, her other arm a broken mess beside her. She studied her friend, his petals torn and wilted, planty fibres twisting up from his bent stem.

"We still have one more thing to do." She told him. Flowey heaved a sigh and slumped against her hand, then surprised her with a chuckle.

"I won't lie; I never thought we would make it here. The last Reset, can you imagine it? I can't."

Frisk scoffed at the flower and rolled her eyes with a smile, ignoring the pain of pulled cuts on her face.

"No, seriously! I had zero faith in you!" Frisk laughed at Flowey's admission but didn't really hold it against him. None of them really thought they could do this, only Sans was very vocal about it. She curled her legs up and all but snuggled into the dirt where she lie beside Flowey.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered mischievously. Flowey perked and grinned at her. "I didn't really believe in us either!" Frisk giggled and Flowey howled with laughter at their delightfully morbid conversation.

Frisk was aware that this really wasn't the attitude they should have at a time like this, but she had just walked through hellfire and now they stood on a precipice of all or nothing, emphasis on the nothing. But laying with Flowey, beaten and battered and pumped full of determination, she realised that it didn't really matter! They could lay here forever but still make it in time, because she could just Reset! It was the funniest joke she had heard in ages.

Her giggle fading, Frisk watched as Flowey laughed. For a moment she was drawn back to her first Reset, when Flowey was mad with power and stagnancy and his laugh had been sharp like knives. Now his laugh was full, though still a little mad but hers was too, so it was fine. Her friend may not have his own soul, clinging to six instead, and he may have been a flower that had killed her a few times but stars…she loved him.

“You’re my best friend, you know?” she stated, curling a little closer to him. “When we Reset I’m glad you’ll be the first one I see.”

Flowey’s laugh turned a little forced and he blushed, turning away. “Y-Yeah well, who else would make sure you didn’t fuck everything up?” he scoffed at her and she laughed.

“Of course.” Frisk paused. “Do you think the others will remember?” she twitched her fingers a little. She wanted them to, kind of, so she could have people that understood. But she also sort of, kind of, didn’t want them to remember. Think back to the last few timelines, the stress and pain, the loss, all leading to this point. Frisk didn’t want them to remember all that, she wanted them to be happy.

“Dunno. It’s a lot of determination we are pumping into it this time, so it’s a fifty-fifty chance. When the smiley trash bag stops being dust he might remember. Not sure though.” He shrugged his petals.

Frisk nodded, accepting the answer easily. He was right, she had a lot more determination than was strictly healthy for a human. She had learnt to ignore the burn of excess determination over the past Resets as she and Flowey had been gathering it. Sometimes, if she didn’t keep it in check at burn through her insides leaving great welts on her skin that smoked painfully. Mixing that with the magic she had borrowed from her friends to defeat the Demon had been a bad idea, but it had worked.

Sighing resignedly Frisk called up her soul, warping and shuddering as it tried to hold in all the power she held. “Alright, I suppose we should get this over with.” Her friend looked hard at her a moment then nodded. In a flash the six other souls spun into existence and Flowey’s own determination burned around them.

 

 

[RESET]

[ **YES** ] [NO]

 

 

Her Determination B U R N E D


	2. Chapter 2

Frisk woke up grunting. The phantom pain of determination seared her skin and snapped her bones and boiled her blood. For a moment, he body felt like liquid again, shaking and weak and it made her arms flail trying to rid herself of the sensation. She settled after the liquid feeling left and lay limp, letting the after burn simmer away and leaving her feeling stretched and out of shape.

Her mind reeled back to the Reset. What had happened? They had everything right, everything done, this was the last step! Why had her determination started raging like that? Proper memory of the time during Resets always faded fast, and most of the time Frisk had a deep sense of relief that they couldn't remember that place, a place that even trying to think of left her heart chilled. But this time she dug down, tried to recall what was just out of reach! Scrunching her eyes up, Frisk rolled onto her stomach, back arching as she tried to focus, fingers clawing into the dirt and grit. Her determination, she had had so much of it, but that had been fine. It had been enough to burn even a human, but she wasn't making more, she was using it! Getting rid of it! Why had it suddenly turned on her? She remembered initiating the Reset, settling into the void as she chose her destination in time and space, then…. Then something! Something had gone wrong. But what!?

"Argh!" She knocked herself in the head in frustration, then stopped. She wasn't getting anywhere with this. She'll figure it out, but later. For now she needed to find Flowey, see what had happened with this mess, because something had happened. Frisk could tell.

With a deep breath Frisk opened her eyes, pushing herself up so she wasn't face first in the…flowers? There was dirt beneath her. And rocks. With her eyes now open it was like snapping back into her body. Stone dug into her everywhere, and she could feel stones clinging to her back and side, grating and just a little painful. Not only that, but her body felt weird, dulled and sensitive both at the same time. Confused, she dragged her eyes up. She was in the barrier room, only there was no barrier. Shocked Frisk stared out into the whiteness. Gentle flakes of snow fluttered into the opening, the glare of light making it impossible for her to see farther. A little shell shocked Frisk barely even noticed her fumbled crawling (for some reason she couldn’t seem to balance on her feet) as she skittered to the cave mouth. 

Her first breath of chilled air crackled in her mouth. Snow sunk like knives into her hands and knees and the light near blinded her as she stared out. Before her was a wide valley, Silver Valley Frisk remembered it being called, after the river that ran through it that shone silver at mid-day. Right now it was covered in snow and deep in winter. Mountains rose on each side, funnelling the ocean wind from the west. And the ocean! Frisk could see it far in the distance, the sun starting its decent into it. She exhaled, taking in the sight. One difference noted. It had been late spring when she had fallen.

And the barrier!

Looking behind her Frisk studied the place where the barrier should be. This mess, Frisk thought, it turning out a little better than expected. It was then that a snowflake decided now it should fly right into her eye. Shocked by the sudden intrusion, she pushed back onto her butt, hands flashing up to rub at her eye. Everything would have been great, it her hand hadn't made a scratching noise as she rubbed. Or maybe not. Pulling her hand back Frisk started as she stared at bones. Blinking, she lifted her other hand. It was bone too! Her breathing picked up, and she felt air flowing over her ribs. Looking down Frisk felt like fainting. It wasn't the first time she had seen her own bones, albeit there had been a bit more blood last time, but never had she seen all of them at once. Looking down it suddenly made sense why she had crawled here. Her legs were broken. Well, no, not broken but they bent wrong. Her thighs and calves were a little shorter and her feet were far too long, with claws tipping the ends. They reminded her of the dog monsters. Hyperventilating just a little Frisk half expected there to be a tail, but no. there wasn't. She did have a second set of arms though.

Oh stars.

"Flowey?" She called. She needed someone. "Flowey?!" Anyone. "FLOWEY?! FLOWEY, WHERE ARE YOU, THIS ISN'T FUNNY! MOOOOMM!"

But nobody came.

Sucking in deep breathes, trying to ignore the feeling of it in her chest (ribs!), she flapped her hands and cried. She may have lived through years of Resets but she had been a child through them all. It was a little confusing really. Hiccupping, Frisk moved her arms (upper arms? Main arms?) to touch her new extra pair. They connected to her just below her actual arms, another set of clavicles and with a brief twist, another set of scapula, joined them to her body. Currently the set was sitting limply beside her, but as she reach down to touch them one moved up to meet her fingers. Frisk jolted, not expecting the arms to move. In her shock all four of her arms curled to her chest.

Sniffling, she wiped at her eyes, more carefully this time. Her hands came away with a glowing red liquid. She sniffled again as she examined it, calming her breathing as she stared at her tears. Rubbing it between her fingers it tingled a little, but not badly. It reminded her of magic. Thinking back to the last timeline Frisk remembered when Papyrus had cried (heaving great awful sobs that tore her heart), this was like that. 

Another breath, stronger this time. Ok. Skeleton. She could deal with this. She looked down at her new arms and weird legs. Hopefully. Breathe. She needed to get up. Head into the underground and find someone. Hopefully Flowey. Steeling herself with one last glance at the snow outside Frisk pushed against the ground and attempted to stand. 

For the first time she felt her determination stir. She didn't have burning levels anymore, no, it felt like her first few Resets. None of the determination she had gathered, none of the energy she had hoarded over runs. Just her.

After all this time…it's still her.

It took some time for Frisk to figure out how to walk with her new legs. They bent funny and she had to walk on her toes and she could barely balance without leaning against the cave wall. When she finally managed to stand up to her full height she nearly fell right back over. Frisk stared down at the ground. It was so far away! She was huge! Frisk had been an 11 year old for so long through the Resets. One time she had managed to grow to 14, but she had never been this tall! She must have been taller that Papyrus! Or maybe even Undyne! It blew her mind a little that she was now so tall, but felt that it didn't really matter right now. So she decided to think about it later.

Making her way further underground was a task and a half. She had to stay near the wall to balance, but here the ground was very uneven, pulling away from the wall and up randomly. Tiny stones dug their way between the tiny bones of her toes and more than once the claws dug a little too hard into the stone and tripped her. The tunnel leading underground got dark fast, but she could still see a little, everything tinted red slightly. Getting to the bend Frisk expected to see the great archway leading towards the throne room. What she found instead was stalactites and darkness. The tunnel opened up into a cavern. The ceiling was only a little ways above her head and with each breath Frisk smelled a dampness she only knew from Waterfall. 

A little panic rose back up into her chest as she stumbled further into the cave. A dead end. There was no further path. This wide, low cave was all that was here. No castle. No flowers.

"Flowey?" She called once more, useless.

Clenching her teeth she wanted cry again, but sucked it back. She had already cried and that was enough. Instead she reached inside herself. Calling out to her soul with all the determination she had left. This was all so wrong, she had to do something. Her soul swirled to existence between her ribs and flipped in front of her, bright red and upside down. She frowned at it but cupped it as she reached into the void to pull herself out of time. Except nothing happened. Her determination wavered. Then steeled. She reached again. Nothing happened. Frisk felt nothing. Not the cold of the void, nor the pin of a save. Her determination was still there warm like a camp fire. But it did nothing. Her hands tightened in her sudden anger around her soul and she yelped as pain shot through her, throwing her soul away from herself. It dissolved back away inside her.

Clenching her teeth, this time in frustrated anger, Frisk tried again. And again. With an angry snarl she swiped at a low hanging stalactite. It clattered down with an echo. Heaving, hands clenched, her breath hitched. She held it in and scrubbed at her head, holding it. She jumped and made a distressed noise when her lower hands clung to her ribs. This was quickly getting out of hand. She chuckled a little madly at her own joke.

This was supposed to be the last reset. The Demon was gone, she would do one last run and break the barrier for good, then all the determination she had left she would give to Flowey. That was how it was supposed to go! That was the plan! This? This was all wrong and it wasn't FAIR! There was nothing here! Her family! All she had done, all the suffering, the pain, the death and for what?! So she could end it all in some empty cave as some…some…monster?!

She fell to her knees, but even that was taken from her when her legs wouldn't fold like they used to, and they ended up beside her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn’t mean it." Frisk muttered, the fight still there, but. "Not a monster." But what was the point? She couldn't manipulate time. That was out of her reach now. It truly was the last Reset. But what was the point, there was nothing here and Frisk could hardly even recognise herself. Another inspection of her hollow body. And naked. She would have blushed but…

But…

Frisk frowned again. Brows scrunching. She lifted her hands away from her, lower arms simply following along, and stared at them. The tips of her fingers were clawed like her toes, the bones thin and fragile looking. But she felt a strength in them, like her own flesh and blood hands. They were solid and strong. Frisk curled them into fists. They were strong, she was strong. Even fumbling around like a baby deer she was strong!

So but nothing!

The underground was gone, but the surface was open and there was something out there. Climbing to her feet once more she left the cavern and back to the cave mouth, staring out at the snow. Something was out there, and she would find it.

88888888888888888888888888888888888

Frisk stood on the edge of the plateau outside the underground and studied the valley. Snow blanketed everything. In her own timeline Frisk would have been able to see the big skyscrapers from the city by the ocean at the other end of the valley. Now, in the distance by the water was another settlement. No great towers and sprawling suburbs, instead it was a blot of buildings surround what she could only assume was a castle, but at this distance it all kind of blurred together. She thought for a moment of trying to get there but it would take her far too long, the valley was massive with Ebbot and the city at opposite ends. Instead she turned her eyes to a closer break in the white.

Down nearer to the foot of the mountian was what Frisk could make out as a little village. A small cluster of low buildings around a small handfuls of larger ones. Sprawling further out from the mass where little specks of buildings that she thought must have been farms. There was no highway, no roads she could make out. When was she? What sort of world had she come to?

Shaking those thoughts away she stepped carefully to the side, picking her way down off the plateau. Frisk glanced at the smaller village and confirmed her idea. She would head there, and try to figure out what was going on. She slipped on some icy rocks, falling a little ways in the snow. The icy flakes seemed to find every crack and seam in her bones and slip in. It was very uncomfortable. Frisk suddenly was much more understanding of Sans and Papyrus's clothes. 

First order of business: find some clothes.

She was a little shocked to find the cold didn't really bother her. Things also didn't feel like they used to. While Frisk wasn't wearing any shoes, the sharp stones this high on the mountain didn't really bother her. It was more that they wedged between her bones that bothered her. 

The worst part of the climb was the start, Frisk found. Up that high there was nothing to slow the ocean wind and it battered her. When she got low enough that trees were growing the wind died to a gentle breeze and Frisk only had to worry about scratching out the ice building up in her joints. She had given up scratching it out of her neck and instead picked mostly at her hips and knees. Not only did it ease the ached it brought, it helped her get used to the whole bone thing. 

The arms on the other hand.

Her upper arms she had no trouble controlling, it was natural. Her lower arms however either followed along with her upper arms or just hung limp beside her. With her path slowly easing as she got lower on the mountain Frisk used the time to practice. The clasped her upper hands behind her back and focused solely on controlling the lower. First opening and closing her lower lands, then flexing her wrists. So far, so good. Picking her way down through thin spread trees she tried to raise her arms. This was a little harder. Her upper arms twitched, trying to rise too, but she clenched her hands (all four) and refused to let them budge. Trying again she tried raising them in front of her. Her movement was a little blocked by her clasped upper arms but she made do.

By the time the tree's thickened Frisk had managed to raise and lower her lower arms easily, though her upper arms still twitched a little. Stopping with her practice she looked towards her destination. Being much lower on the mountain now the village was starting to disappear past the trees. The sun had started to sink into the horizon and clouds had started to roll down the mountain from behind her. It wouldn't be long before the whole valley filled with cloud. A little worried she adjusted her course slightly and moved a little faster toward the village. With any luck she would reach the outer buildings before the clouds opened up.

The trek between the mountain and the village was a lot longer that Frisk expected. By the time she made it past the trees at the base of the mountain she was sighing with relief that the forest curved around the left of the valley from where she stood. The sun had set a while ago and the clouds blotted out the moon. Frisk would have been worried but her vision had been slowly turning a little more red as the dark crept in so she could still somewhat see. Now she had to get across the plain. The ground was now quite flat and with her back to Ebbot she angled to the right where a soft orange glow marked the town. Little pricks of light shone from the outer buildings, but she had a feeling some had no light and were blending into the background.

She spent a moment once more cracking the ice from her bones. The snow kept slipping into the joints, then melting from the friction only to freeze again and it left her sore and aching. Not to bring up the burning ache the excess determination had left her. The wind had picked up slightly and little flurries swirled around her. In an attempt to stop it from irritating her ribs she wrapped her arms around herself. Frisk moved onward.

With the clouds overhead Frisk had no idea how long it took for her to come close to the first building. It was a barn, big and with a few gaps in the wood. It sat at the very edge of a wooden fence and from inside she heard what sounded like cows. As another gust of wind twirled snow straight through her Frisk decided to investigate the barn a little further for something to cover herself. She was very tired of being naked.

Getting into the barn was easier than she thought it would be! With her new size lifting the plank of wood holding the door shut was laughably easy. As she set it aside Frisk grumbled, having this sort of strength would have made things much easier in earlier Resets. Huffing a little at the thought she carefully cracked the great door open and slipped in.

It was instant relief from the constant itch of wind against her bones. It was also notably warmer. As she stared at the cows held in some sort of pen at one end of the barn she digressed that it wasn’t really that much warmer, just out of the wind and snow. The cows were huddled together. And staring at her. She shuffled a little further in, her eyes panning for something for her to use. Another glance up as a cow mooed loudly at her then quieted. She was taller than them. Which she found odd, but she was taller than a lot of things she didn’t used to be taller than. 

Frisk passed down the right side of the barn, studying hay and oats and tools. If worst came to worst, she supposed she could stay in this barn until morning, then try and talk to someone and figure out when/where she was. Turning to study the other side when she reached the cows Frisk kept looking. Or should she look around now, while people sleep? Would that be creepy?

With a sound of triumph, Frisk reached with her right hands and yanked out a piece of cloth that had been folded behind a crate. Holding it up for inspection, she decided that it will do. It was stuck through in multiple places with straw and the weave was thick and full of holes, but it would do. With her new cloak now wrapped around her she sat on the box that had tried to hide it. Slumping back against the wall Frisk finally stopped for a moment.

The cows in their pens huffed and shuffled about and the barn groaned slightly in the wind. Off her weird new feet Frisk felt how tired she was. It wasn’t really the tired where you drifted off to sleep, it was more the tired where your eyes itched and your body wanted to move but you didn’t really have the energy. Lifting her feet she watched as she stretched her toes. Mud and snow stained all up to her lifted heel and little stones were stuck in her toes. Lazily she picked them out, happy to let her mind go blank for a little bit. When that was done Frisk just stopped for a while, staring silent at the opposite wall. It was nice to not think, especially after the mess that was today. Her eyes closed for a moment and she felt that things will be easier to deal with tomorrow.

Then another cow mooed and Frisk opened her eyes again. With a sigh, much more tired than when she entered the barn, she stood up. Right, looking around now while there was less trouble would be better.

With a little regret Frisk left the barn, placing the wood plank back in its holders, and kept walking.

The time between buildings was rather long, Frisk noted, but was getting shorter the close she got the glow of the town. It didn’t have as many lights as before, a few left here and there. The closest wasn’t actually in the town proper. As she walked past another home, wood and stone like the others, she noticed the light was a little ways from everything. Curiosity peaked, Frisk angled towards the little orange light. 

She soon ran into a road of some kind. Stones lined the side and two long divots in the snow spoke of wheel tracks. She followed it towards the light. Finally Frisk arrived at a gate. Wooden like most other things, but the wall it was attached to was low stone. The gate was small next to her, and instead of disturbing the tiny thing she decided to step over the wall, which barely reached above her knees.

The light was a lamp.

It wasn’t like any lamp Frisk had seen before. It was made of glass wrapped with metal and inside was a candle. The flame burned bigger than any other candle she had seen before. It hung from a post the reached the bottom of her ribs and one the side of a small path leading to a decently sized building. She stepped a little closer to examine it more, only to kick her foot against the stone at the bottom of the lamp post. With a loud yelp Frisk jumped back. She tried to lift up her foot to grab it but over balanced and stumbled to sit against the wall. Holding now onto her toes to rub away the soreness she was glad for her cloak/blanket, as it protected her from ice cold stones.

Seated once more Frisk felt the tiredness creep in. her limbs felt heavy and she ached all over and even with the blanket she still felt uncomfortably naked. Huffing a breath Frisk released her sore toes and leant forward. Bracing her elbows on her knees she drooped her head, letting the exhaustion hit.

As tired as she was Frisk didn’t hear the creak of a door, or see the tiny light bloom. A pair of people were coming out of the building the lamp belonged too and were making their way towards her. One was fairly short and hunched over, a heavy coat rapped around them and a candle in hand. Beside them was a taller figure, bulkier and also equally bundled.

When Frisk finally noticed a light settle over her the two were already whispering to each other warily. The shorter figure said something and her eyes slowly moved to them. It was a man, human, he was edging on old, with lines around his eyes and hair that hadn’t been around for years. He said something again and she frowned. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. Some of the sounds were familiar but they seemed to breeze right past her. Then the other figure spoke up, drawing attention as the stepped forward to place a hand on her blanket covered shoulder.

This one was a monster. Frisk blinked a little, trying to feel a little shock but the heavy exhaustion just wouldn’t allow it. The monster was covered in feathers, with a beak and little plume atop their head. They wore what Frisk could only call a poncho, it was thick with a large hood and looked very warm. Just looking at them in the red tinted dark Frisk couldn’t tell much more about them. The monster spoke again, voice high and decidedly female. She looked concerned.

“Um.” She shuffled her feet through the snow and held her blanket a little tighter. “I….I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Sat on the wall and hunched, she had to tilt her head up to see the monster.

The feathered monster clicked her beak, her solid yellow eyes shining with worry, and spoke again slower. Frisk frowned at her and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

The man turned to the monster and Frisk watched curiously as the two spoke quickly with each other. She had never seen a monster and a human interact before, not as an onlooker at least. The two seemed familiar with each other, the man putting his hand on the monsters arm gently as he spoke, and glancing back at Frisk occasionally. After a moment the monster nodded and her hand tightened on her shoulder. With a gentle pull Frisk allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. A slight stumble later and she towered over her two observers. The older man barely even reached her ribs and the monster got half way up them. Frisk was struck with a deep sense of misplacement. This was so strange.

The two strangers stared at her a moment, a little shocked by her height. They quickly got over it though. A little self-conscious with the stares Frisk hunched over. The new skeleton soon found herself being gently led towards the building she had briefly noted. The door was just slightly too short and she bumped her head, but brushed off the fussing of the man. They led her to some sort of living room. It was large, with two tables set at one end. The other end had a large woven rug that looked handmade covering the floor, scattered over it were children’s toys.

Frisk was lead through the living space and down a hall and passed a set of stairs. The room she entered was…old. A simple bed that looked to be a sheet wrapped around straw stuffing. A thick blanket made out of mismatching knitted patches was draped over the top, looking recently rumpled. The feathered monster hurried forward and gathered up a bundle of what looked like clothes from the bed and shoving them into a chest at the end. The man touched her back gently and encouraged her onto the bed. Frisk was going to protest, she had a sneaking suspicion the room belonged to the woman and didn’t want to take it from her, but as soon as she sat the tiredness returned. 

With just a touch the man convinced her to lay down. With minimal squirming she managed to pull the knit blanket over herself and her own blanket. In the warmth of the large building the chill of winter slowly left her. She could feel the ice on her bones starting to melt, soothing the scraping it had caused. With a deep sigh her eyes closed, and Frisk slept.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been an altogether unremarkable evening in Merl’s opinion. He had made supper for the children like all the other nights, fresh bread with cheese. He had wanted to let them have some of the jam they had in the pantry, but there was so little and Anamira wanted to save it for when winter broke. 

Like every other day Anamira had hurried around the children, making sure enough water was heated so everyone could wash their faces, hands and feet. She tutted at the three younger ones who had been playing in the cold mud before being called in. she had made sure everyone got at least one slice of bread for supper.

After Anamira and Merl had ushered all the children into their beds they had eaten their own supper of leftovers before cleaning the kitchen and main room a little, ready for the next day.

Merl had just been getting into bed when Anamira had knocked on his door, having heard something outside. He was a little wary, but heaved himself back up to check. He was getting on in years, and if it was bandits or some such he didn’t think he could do much, and he wasn’t any sort of mage. He was comforted by Anamira, as he knew she had fairly strong magic, but he worried for the fussy feathered thing.

They had peered outside into the dark and easily spotted the source of the sound. A large figure sat slumped on their border wall, the light of their traveller’s lantern casting them in sharp relief. For a moment Merl was worried it was a drunkard tossed from the tavern in town proper. But as they moved closer it was easier to see the person for what they were. Anamira had breathed a little breath when she finally understood what was in front of her.

The skeleton monster was hunched, head drooped and listing towards the lantern. He had worried for a moment that the monster would catch chill but from memory skeleton monsters were notoriously hardy. He had tried to talk to the cloth wrapped monster but she had merely lifted tired eyes to him confusedly. He was a little thrown by her eyes, brilliant red rings, but quickly repeated his question.

When the monster spoke her voice was soft and light. It sounded like it could have been a kind voice. If only he had understood a single thing she had said.

A little later, after a brief conversation with Anamira about safety of this odd monster, they ushered her inside. She was incredibly tall. He could see the ends of animal like bones as her feet and her head, not quite sharp features but more neutral and with large canine teeth that seemed to interlock. The rest of her was covered by a hay strewn cloth.

It hadn’t taken much to get her into Anamira’s bed and soon the odd monster was unconscious. He fussed a little over her, pulling the blanket up a little more and tucking it around her. Anamira huffed and clicked her beak behind him, trying to take in as much of this monster as she could.

“Where do you think she came from? I’ve never heard that language before.” Anamira asked, her crest fluffing slightly.

“I’ve no clue, but she seemed exhausted. Does she even know where she is? She didn’t seem to understand us either.” Merl replied, stepping away from the bed.

“Not from anywhere around here I’d say. If she was from the capital she would speak the language.” 

Merl frowned at his friend in thought and motioned them to leave the room. “I don’t recall any skeletons living in Gatehall, why do you think she’s here?” Anamira just shook her head, equally as stumped as he was.

As Anamira latched the door to her room she turned to the stairs. “I’m going to check on the children. Make sure none of them woke up.” And she left. Merl did note that her tail feathers were twitching, portraying her anxiety.

With one last glance at the door that hid the strange new monster he turned further down the hall to the washroom. The wash tub was propped against the wall, drying from this evening and opposite it was a set of shelves nailed to the wall filled with spare clothes and sheets. Pulling down the four sheets that didn’t need repairing (note to self: fix those tomorrow) Merl headed back to his own room and set about making up a bed for himself, he wasn’t really bothered by not having any straw to make up a proper pallet and just laid the woollen sheets on the floor and rolling one end up as a pillow. Anamira could take his bed, she had worked hard today and deserved the rest.

His own bed now set Merl set about checking on their guest one last time. The monster was dead to the world. Looking over her again Merl worried about the blanket she had been covered in. seeing it now peeking through Anamira’s just troubled him more. It looked like a hay tarp of some kind, simple weave and not even dyed. With that in mind Merl wandered back to the washroom and pulled down the few spare clothes they kept. He instantly discarded the more human clothes, all of those were made for children and would never fit. That left the specifically monster clothes. While many monsters could wear the same style as humans there were equally as many that didn’t, either because they didn’t really need or want to or because it would just be too much hassle. Anamira was one such example. She didn’t really need to wear anything due to her feathers but chose to wear a single Basic to protect her feathers from mess.

Taking in their guests’ height Merl was pleased to find he had something that would fit. They were two spare Basics that Anamira kept around in her own size, and with the skeleton so thin it would fit. Separating both from the pile Merl returned all the other clothes to the shelves and went about folding and placing the new clothes on the chest at the end of Anamira’s bed.

Having sorted everything out, Merl headed to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

It was cold in the void. Nothing and everything, filling every space and leaving it empty all at once. 

Her soul, the very culmination of her being, screamed through the nothing. She barrelled down the starlight rope that was her timeline. Determination burned rampantly around her. Devouring her. Destroying her.

Her soul dripped under the stress.

She had to keep moving, she couldn’t let the blast destroy everything they had worked for.

Her determination burned.

She slipped further and further past her true destination and she could only pray to anyone that listened that it was enough.

She felt her soul twist in the not-heat. Her body, or whatever became of it when she entered this place, melt like ice.

A shift, a resolution

She was liquid, spiralling and uncontained, flying apart in droplets. She screamed nothing to the void. She was falling apart! Falling away!

A shift, a realisation, a resolution

Nothing lived in the Void. Nothing died in the Void.

The Void saw only existence. The red soul would exist.


	5. Chapter 5

Frisk woke up to the sounds of children. Yelling and laughter, and the patter of tiny feet. When she tried to turn towards the noise however, her body saw fit to remind her of all her aches. Groaning, Frisk rolled herself onto her side and blinked blearily around the strange room she was in. The walls were all raw wood, except the one with the window with its lower half being stone. Her eyes were drawn to said window. It was closed, little wooden doors held closed by a simple wooden latch, and from what Frisk could see, there wasn’t any glass and she could feel a soft chill from it.

A thud on the wall near her head broke her thoughts and Frisk turned her attention towards the day. Voices stood outside, an older one sounded almost like it was scolding the other. Then the voices left.

She frowned. Where was she? With another grunt she propped herself to her elbows and stared down at herself. Ah. Bones stared back at her. That’s right. She stared around the room again with new eyes. Those two, the human and monster, had brought her inside. She wondered vaguely if this was their home, then felt a flash of guilt. Oh stars, this wasn’t one of their beds was it? If it was, where had they slept? Pushed by her guilt Frisk forced herself up on her feet.

Now that she had rested she felt the ache in her body full force. Her joints throbbed and her soul ached from whatever had happened with the Reset. She took a moment to check herself over, readjust herself to her new body. She frowned at her naked self, it would be a long time before she got used to this. That is if she didn’t figure how to fix this all before then.

After almost leaving the closed room still naked before dragging her ‘borrowed’ blanket back around herself, Frisk stepped outside into the hall.

Light flowed in from the end to her left, which she thought might open up into a large room. The sounds of children was louder now, and grew as she made her way through the building.

It was a child that noticed her first. The room she was now in was filled with them. Children played with toys and each other around a large fireplace that oddly enough sat in the middle of the room, a large table pushed against the far wall next to a door and open windows showing a snowy yard. The building was odd, Frisk had seen stairs to a second level but in this main room there was just open space above her, smoke from the fire seeping out through a spot in the roof. She could see where the second floor ended, wood supports propping it up about a third of the way into the room. And up near the roof was some sort of small open loft, a ladder leading up to it.

The monster child that had spotted her gasped, and pushed excitedly at the human child they had been playing with. Before she knew it the two tiny things were at her feet and staring up at her, voices running unintelligibly.

Frisk started a little at them, then stared curiously. In the hallway, she was only just able to stand without hitting her head on the roof, and these two children barely even reached her knees.

A call from further in the room had the children jumping back and staring sheepishly at the large bird monster swiftly moving up to them. In the daylight, Frisk openly stared at the monster, taking in the sight of the creature that had helped her the night before. Her feathers were mostly a dusty green, with peeks of red and purple along the edges, and a dark beak. If it wasn’t for the feathered hands Frisk would have likened her to Snowdrake. Wrapped around her front, Frisk noticed, was some sort of dull red apron and nothing else.

She didn’t hesitate to step into Frisks space. Soft hands found one of her elbows under her blanket and without much fuss Frisk let the she monster lead her back down the hall and into the bedroom she had just left.

The birds voice washed over her, and Frisk tried to make it out, but quickly stopped and focused instead on her face and movements. She looked a little like Toriel did when she was scolding her, so Frisk assumed she probably should have stayed in the room.

As the monster closed the door and turned to look at her Frisk stuttered, shifting nervously.

“Um, uh, I’m sorry? Was I supposed to stay here? I’m not sure…” her jaw shifted a little Frisk realised she couldn’t chew her lip. Instead she felt two of her teeth grind against each other.

The monster studied her, and for a moment she looked a little helpless, before pulling herself up and stepping towards her.

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Anamira closed the door to her room-come-guest room and stared at her new guest.

She had been just a little surprised when she had turned away from little Marius to see Botti and Jen at the feet of the tall skeleton. Their guest had seemed confused, but interested in something as she stared down at the children, still wrapped in her blanket. Anamira then wasted no time and reeling back the two children and escorting the skeleton back to her room. Now that she was awake Anamira would make sure their guest was cleaned and dressed before they tried to figure out what had happened to them.

She watched the other shuffle slightly, and Anamira listened to the curious way her language sounded. This would be a little harder than she wished it would be. For a moment Anamira wondered if they shouldn’t have just left the tall skeleton out in the snow, they had no idea where she had come from, or what kind of person she was, or even what language she spoke. And they had just let her in, and potentially put the children in their care at risk.

But then Anamira looked up at the other monster, grinding her teeth in worry and looking like a scolded child despite her massive size, and the matron pushed those thoughts away.

“What in all the stars am I going to do with you?” Anamira sighed, rubbing her beak. Then stepped forward.

“Well, let’s sit you down and see if we can’t sort this all out, huh Stranger?” She was rather pleased when the large monster moved easily with her light touch and let Anamira sit them on the bed. Then she stepped over and grabbed the wash bowl and cloth she had left there earlier that morning, noting unsurprised that it hadn’t been touched, and placed it on the chest at the end of the bed before kneeling down. the skeleton made some sort of noise, and question maybe, and a hand left the shelter of their blanket, as if the pull her back up off the floor. Anamira just swatted it away.

“Stop that, you great thing. I have no doubt you are a mess under that rag. Where in the world did you even get that thing? It’s hardly appropriate for this weather.” She tsked, and tugged at the brown thing.

There was a sharp complaint but the skeleton let the blanket go and Anamira’s day just got a little more odd. Had this odd monster been naked this whole time? A quick glance around the room confirmed it, then her aghast gaze settled on her guest. “What in all the stars has happened to you?”

The skeleton didn’t seem at all ashamed by her nakedness, although she shifted clearly uncomfortable. All four of her arms were curled up near her chest, hands fiddling with each other. And it was a little odd, Anamira had never heard of a skeleton monster that didn’t look like a humans, at least in shape, so the extra arms and legs much like her own threw her a little. But the bird monster had never really left Gatehall, so what did she know really?

With one more look over, Anamira rung out the wash cloth, motioned cleaning herself and handed it over. The skeleton stared for a moment at the cloth, at her, then slowly started washing herself.

“Good.” She nodded. 

Anamira spent the next hour helping the skeleton wash, and much to her shock, teaching her how to put on the Basics Merl had found for her in the wash room. Now dressed and looking to her to make the next move, Anamira made the decision to take their guest back out to the main room.

This was going to be a long day.

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There were children piled around the edge of the door frame, peering into the kitchen to stare at her. Frisk stared right back, still quite confused at the mix of human and monster children. As the bird monster had led her back out into the rest of the house, the children had all gathered around, staring and asking what Frisk assumed were questions until the older monster had said something and they all backed off. From Frisk’s count there were twelve children that she could see, of varying ages, and of those only four were human.

Frisk had a hunch as to what sort of place she found herself in.

Her attention was drawn back to the two adults when they shooed off the gathered children. The older human placed a plate with what looked like homemade bread and a slice of cheese on it. The plate was oddly made of clay, at least Frisk assumed that’s what it was. She picked the food up carefully with her upper hands, her lower hands gently touching the bread. She thought about trying to lower them, but she had no idea what she would do with them, so just went with it. 

In a few bites her bread and cheese was gone, and while she was still hungry, she didn’t want to ask her hosts for more.

They sat at a small table pushed against the wall in the tiny warm kitchen, taking up the only three chairs. Her hosts watched her as she looked around. There was another fireplace in here, except this one was sitting on a raised stone step, bushed back into a square alcove. A metal bar ran across the top. A large blackened pot sat beside it, and a long handled pan hung from a peg on the wall beside it. Clay jars and baskets filled the shelves on the opposite wall, dried plants hung from more pegs, stuck into walls and even the beams of the roof. A large barrel sat near the door to the rest of the house, and a worn wooden bench sat in the middle of the room, a small knife left there by the man.

Finished with her inspection, Frisk turned her attention back to the two sitting with her.

“I’m sorry.” She knew they couldn’t understand her, but she hoped they could read it on her face.

She felt awful for having them look after her. They shouldn’t have to deal with her problems.

The pair glanced at each other, before the man said something that Frisk took to be reassuring. He smiled, his brown eyes soft. 

There was an awkward pause at they all stared at each other, until the bird monster huffed, obviously exasperated by it all, and leant forward. Frisk frowned at the word she said.

The monster said it again. Frisk blinked and zeroed in on the other. Was she…?

And again, the monster pointed to herself this time. Oh!

“Anamira.” Frisk started into bright yellow eyes. It was her name!

“Anamira. That’s a nice name.” she said with a smile. The other monster, Anamira, huffed and gave her a beakish grin.

With one name, Frisk turned to the human. He perked up at her, crows feet crinkling with his smile as he said “Merl.” And pointed to himself. Frisk repeated the name with a nod. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Another short pause, before Merl shifted his hands on the table and motioned pointedly at her. Frisk blinked. Oh! She was so rude! She breathed in unnecessarily and-

“F̛̖͚̻͙͓̩̑̂̉ͤ͗̇͐ͧ͢ͅr̵̫͎͛͗͡͡ĭ͌ͥ҉̵̰̮͙̟s̳̟͔̄̓͝k̷̴̡͇͓͕̦͍̣̅͛͛ͭ̇̒” 

And stopped. Merl and Anamira’s faces turned confused, muttering something to each other then looking back at her. Frisk frowned. What in the world had just come out of her mouth?

“My name is |̿ ̶̿'╮| ͇ ͇\̿ ̿ |⟨ !”

Frisk hissed (a real, proper hiss that she will probably remember later), upset and confused. Her two hosts raised their hands towards her in what should have been a calming gesture, but Frisk was getting truly upset now. She had dealt with a lot of things recently, and rather well she would say. And Frisk knew logically that she really shouldn’t be upset by this of all the things she could get upset about. But it was the straw that broke her back.

Her chest heaved, and she could feel the burn of the Determination she didn’t have anymore. Distantly she noticed Merl stand and crouch beside her, calloused hand rubbing her arm and he stared down at him with blurry eyes. 

“I can say it! I can. I have my name! I do!” Tears bubbled and she wanted nothing more than to feel Flowey’s vines and petals around her, or Toriel’s strong arms. Stressed her hands flapped, signing sloppily like she had before she fell, before her friends made her comfortable enough to speak up, in a final effort to tell them her name. 

For a brief moment Frisk felt hope, as Merl’s eyes lit with recognition. That hope was crushed as he turned sad eyes to her and shook his head, and clumsily signed a decisive ‘no’.

“I do, it’s mine. My name is [ R E D A C T E D ]”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a few more chapter written so i feel like i can add this one

For three days Frisk lived in a daze by the grace of her hosts, sitting blind and dumb as the children and owners of the little orphanage she had appeared at spent their days around her. She spent her time trying to say her own name, reaching into her soul for something, anything! Her first thought was that this was the Demons last ‘Hoorah’ so to speak. This whole mess with her being a monster and names somehow It’s fault. But she couldn’t feel any of the slick sickness she felt when approaching the Barrier, or any of the souls the Demon had twisted, in the past. It was like her own name had ceased to exist for her, like the work was there but to even try to attach it to herself was now impossible. Instead her words kept twisting in a way she didn’t want, as if trying to say something else, but Frisk was brave enough to admit she was too scared to let them.

It was barely after the start of the third day, after some soft words from Merl as she puttered into the kitchen that she realised she could see pity in his eyes. And Frisk knew that that just wouldn’t do. She scowled as the kind man turn his back to her to put away the oatmeal that had been for breakfast, and couldn’t believe that she has been wallowing for days over a name (she didn’t want to lose her name, it’s all she had).

She went back to her borrowed room. (Anamira’s, she guiltily thought)

Frisk sat down on the edge of the bed, looked down at her hands, and really thought.

First and foremost, she was definitely in the same place as before her Reset. It was just a matter of when. Was she before, or some bizarre after? Second, she was a monster. That was something she really hadn’t been thinking about, the extra arms keep throwing her off, and she can’t count how many times she has scared herself with them. Third was the name. She wanted her name back. Frisk grumpily thought that she probably won’t get it. The loss of her name felt… void-ish.

After all those things came the lesser, but perhaps a little more pressing matters. Like not being able to understand anyone. And freeloading off of the kind Merl and Anamira when they had so much to worry about already. She couldn’t reach the power she had over time anymore, and Frisk wasn’t ready to think about what that meant, but… but she had to figure out what she was going to do, she couldn’t stay idle. Even before she fell into the world of monsters she had never been able to stay still, always moving forward, that was how she survived.

Heaving a great useless breath Frisk (maybe not Frisk) stood back up and looked down at herself. There were no mirrors in the orphanage, and Frisk was struck with the odd desire to see what face she wore, but put it aside for later. She wore the strange apron like clothes her hosts had given her, one a dusty red and the other a charcoal grey. The fabric was coarse, and she assumed it was hand made, and the red one had a slightly off colour patch near the bottom. When Anamira had offered them to her the first day Frisk had been a little astounded. By Frisks mind they were aprons, with ties at the neck and waist. Anamira had gone through the motions that first day, tying the grey one onto her backwards at her throat and around the bottom of her ribs. The red on went on like a proper apron at her front. All together it made an odd sort of dress. There were no shoes offered, Frisk doubted any would fit her now (she missed her boots).

She was a new Not-Frisk. She had fallen down, and it was time to pick herself up again. Starting with making herself useful.

It hadn’t been all that long after she had left the kitchen, and Merl had moved on to sweeping the floor by the time she came back. She watch him for a moment, studying his simple tunic and brown pants. He hummed some nonsense tune as he worked, and Frisk realised that even through her name driven haze she had never seen this man without some sort of smile in his face. It eased her mind to be near someone so content with their life. In a way he reminded her of Papyrus. Quieter and with softer edges but still like the happy skeleton monster.

Enough of being idle, Frisk stepped forward and called out to him. The man blinked up at her and offered a smile.

“Stranger.” He said with a few other things. The name they called her by.

She nodded at him and stepped closer still, gaze switching between him and the broom. She motioned to it. “I’d like to help.” She said.

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Merl sat at the tiny kitchen table and watched as their guest swept the floor for him. He had been worried when she had disappeared earlier, granted he seemed to always be worried for his enigmatic guest. She didn’t speak the Common language, and Merl could only sign ‘yes’, ‘no’ and ‘thank you’ in Hands, their only shared language. Anamira knew even less.

When they had all sat down that first day and gotten to exchanging names Merl had been hopeful. The skeleton monster had been a little quiet and curious but she had only been courteous to both he and Anamira as well as the children. Then she had tried to say her name.

At least that was what Merl assumed.

When he had heard the sound she made after they had told her their name Merl had thought for a moment that someone had smashed all of his jars and thrown hay all over the house all at once. Anamira had been equally confused, although a little more suspicious than he.

The skeleton had looked just as confused. Then she had tried again. The sound was there still, but seemed further away.

The poor thing though, she just got more and more upset. That was what eased Merl, he realised, that this big monster acted a quarter her size. It also made him wonder what had happened to her. Some sort of magic, Anamira had noted, but not any kind she knew of.

Merl wondered if it was a curse, taking away this monsters name.

So their guest had been named Stranger, for lack of anything better. The only thing to come from it was the Hands, even something so basic helped. She seemed to sign whenever she spoke now, her lower set of hands moving quickly as she spoke, as if she was trying twice as hard to be understood.

And for three days they let her be, warning the children away from her. Anamira had brought up many time taking the other monster to the doctor in town, and leaving her in other hands.

But every time Merl thought that that might be the best option for his guest she would appear again, her strange red eyes looking around in a daze searching for something he couldn’t know, and he couldn’t help drifting to her side and leading her back to the kitchen. He would sit the great thing down and sacrifice a bit of the milk their neighbour gave them to her, as if she was one of the orphanages children who had just awoken from a nightmare.

It may also have been that he was a little bit selfish, and wanted to learn about the Stranger himself, and not hear it from the town gossip. But that was his secret.

He chuckled to himself that that last thought, drawing the attention of Stranger, but he waved her off and she returned to finishing her task. After a moment more of watching he spoke up.

“Broom.” He said simply.

Stranger looked over at him again. She frowned a little.

He pointed at the broom she held and said again, “broom.”

Red eyes looked down at her hands then back up. He could see the hesitant understanding on her face. “…Broom?” she shook said broom slightly.

“Broom.” He confirmed and signed a ‘yes’ in hands to help her.

He watched her eyes light up, mutter the word again, then continue sweeping with a little more vigour. Her eyes darted as she moved across the room before she stopped again, and looked at him, pointing to the hearth and the fire that danced inside.

Merl grinned proudly at Stranger, glad to watch her pull herself out of her depression, and said:

“Fire.”


	7. Chapter 7

A week into her stay at the orphanage found Stranger sitting on the floor and surrounded (covered) in children. Botti, the young monster that had spotter her that first day sat in her lap, playing with her sharp claws as he and the other kids tried to teach her how to talk.

Right now Dale, an older human boy was pointing across the room at one of the dining tables, pushed against the wall during the day to be out of the way.

“Come on, you can do it. You know the word!” A monster girl named Sybil cheered. Her tiny hooves clacking excitedly against the floor.

“Yeah you know it Stranger!” Dale encouraged, echoed by some of the others.

“Buh…?” Stranger started hesitantly, looking to them for reassurance. Botti squeezed her hand and smiled up at her, his own black eyes shining up at her black and red. “Buh-b..ench?”

At the finished word the children cheered. And only got louder when she added “table” to the bench. She knew the word for chair, but the children all agreed that it was important to know that the long chair was called a bench.

Anamira sat in another chair on the other side of the fire, happy that none of the children were running out in the snow and she could sit down. Her hands worked quickly with her needles, and she counted her rows dutifully as she knit a new vest that would fit one of the children, probably.

As she knit she watched her children gather around Stranger. They seemed enthralled by the large monster, cooing over her bony hands and glowing eye sockets. They had been in disbelief when she and Merl had first explained Stranger to them, they just hadn’t been able to understand how someone so old couldn’t speak. Well, the younger ones at least. Her eldest three, Dale, Marius, and Zuri, had just been happy to stir the younger ones up.

She had given them a stern talking to and extra chores for that.

And then, of course, when Merl had emerged from the kitchen three days after Stranger arrived, beaming bright as a summer sun and telling them that Stranger was getting better? Well she could only watch as her children damn near devoured the poor woman.

The children had taken it upon themselves to teach Stranger how to talk. They tried, the dear things, pointing out at objects and calling the names. Having her repeat simple sentences like ‘how are you?’ and ‘I’m hungry’. But Anamira could see that Stranger was struggling to learn, and not for a lack of trying. The poor thing just couldn’t seem to make words and their meanings stick together.

“Broom?” Said monster said, and Anamira noted the motion her lower hands made with the word.

“No, Stranger! Not ‘broom’, ‘Door’! That’s the door!” The children laughed not unkindly at the mixed words, and Stranger chuckled embarrassedly.

It was good then, she thought, that Merl and Stranger sat down for an hour or so each night after the children where in bed upstairs to help the skeleton learn her words. It helped some, but even watching them for a few moments Anamira could tell Stranger was just the sort to find learning hard. Harder still when no one could explain it to her.

And still, Anamira would sometimes catch the skeleton sitting alone someplace and forcing words from her mouth that ended always in that hissing breaking sound that seemed to take her name.

Two weeks since Stranger came and the monster had barely learnt much more, but she was more active around the orphanage. In the mornings she would help Merl with breakfast and cleaning, then she would occupy the younger children while Anamira took the older ones outside to do their chores. Some days, when Merl had time to sit with the younger ones Stranger would follow Anamira outside into the snow.

Some days she went with Zuri to fetch water for the barrel in the kitchen, and when they returned Zuri would rave on about how Stranger could lift the heavy water from the well with just a few pulls! On other days she went with Anamira to tend to the matters of their property. They would check the chickens for eggs and sweep the nights snow from the roof to stop it from crushing the coop. Then with Strangers help they made quick work of chipping through the iced soil of the garden bed to keep it ready for the coming spring. Stranger was clumsy, and oddly unused to nearly anything Anamira or Merl or any of the children did, but she was strong and witty in her own wordless way and Anamira like that.

One thing Anamira noted was that no matter how much Marius and Dale begged, Stranger always warily denied going to help farmer Hutcher with his cows and fields. Anamira would huff at the tall monsters shuffling denial, and let Stranger trail after her instead.

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It has been three weeks since Frisk’s ruined Reset and it found her begrudgingly settling into a routine at the orphanage. Not that she was ungrateful to Merl and Anamira! The two had been nothing but kind to her since the moment she arrived and Frisk rather liked the children, especially little Botti. The orphanage had become a safe place, and she could forget herself sometimes in the routine.

It’s just…

Frisk was still a little upset about, well, everything.

It was an old sort of upset, the kind that was there, but felt stale and pointless. And yet it smoked away in the back of her mind, rearing its head while she stumbled to tie her Basics (what an odd name for clothes), or when the children laughed when she couldn’t remember the right word, or when she picked rocks out of her toes. She hadn’t quite yelled at anyone, but she accidentally snapped her teeth angrily while she was with Merl more than once, and had hissed softly at Dale just yesterday.

Frisk sat outside the front of the orphanage. She had been coming out here this last week, just to look out into the night, towards Mt Ebbot. It was kind of pointless, since there was nothing there, but Frisk would sit and think about her family, and if they were okay.

She thought long and hard about her last Reset. Dredged up every memory she could of it. There wasn’t much. How she became a monster is still lost to her, and what exactly happened is anyone’s guess, but she knew that she had killed the Demon. It couldn’t follow her through the timeline like it once had, and that comforted her more than she thought it would. With that, at least, she knew that whatever time she was in was safe from it.

And speaking of when, Frisk was getting the raising (disappointingly certain) suspicion that she was more ‘before’ than ‘after’. She had wanted to believe that what she had done had made a difference, a difference that she would be able to find somewhere in this time. But the time she knew had been so much… further than this one. Electricity and cars and machines. This time was candles and hearths and straw beds. She would have come to the conclusion sooner, but like a lot of things, Frisk would happily admit she was a little scared to accept it.

But she was slowly realising she didn’t have much of a choice.

As of right now Frisk had no way to return to her own time, even with the magic that sometimes bubbled through her nowadays (she should really look into that) it won’t ever be the Determination her human body had been able to wield so effortlessly. She won’t ever be able to Reset or Save again.

At least she thinks so.

Oh, she still had her Determination, Frisk could feel it fill her chest with every properly remembered word, but it wasn’t as strong nor as sharp as it used to be. Truthfully Frisk was a little surprised to feel her determination at all in her monster body, monster couldn’t really handle the stuff. Bar a spars few of course, like Undyne. Another oddity to think on later.

Frisk focused again on the largest mountain, and as she watched snow fat clouds tumble down its front she fell into her most frequent pastime.

“[R E D A C T E D]”

The blank word always never slipped out. And it was getting harder and harder to force her mouth to shape the awkward thing. Much to her sadness.

“Fff…f F|̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ ̶̿ | ...”

There was new words there, waiting. For weeks now Frisk has held them in her throat and stubbornly refused to allow them out. Now though, she wondered what would happen if she just let them out.

Maybe, she wondered breezily, it would be a new name.

Grinding her teeth Frisk stopped fighting with her name and focused on the clouds rolling closer. She couldn’t really tell, but she thinks there may be a storm.

To pass the time, she wonders what it would be like if she had been a proper eleven year old, that hadn’t lived years in the Save/Reset loop.


	8. Chapter 8

Merl woke early with the sun like he did every morning. Although, looking outside at the dark clouds and lifting wind, it was more habit than sun. Getting dressed and washing his face from the water bowl on his desk, Merl relished sleeping in his own bed again.

He held nothing against Stranger for taking Anamira’s bed but sleeping on the floor was never fun, and he had sagged in relief when after a week of staying with them Stranger had demanded the bird monster take back her bed. It had been a rather funny conversation, Merl thought, watching a large skeleton awash with guilt and trying to explain that she didn’t want to take the bed anymore. Once more he had been reminded of a child when looking at Stranger.

The first thing he did when entering the kitchen was stoke the fire in the hearth. It had held on as embers through the night and he happily fed it from the cut wood he stacked beside it. When the wood had caught he moved back out into the main room and set about lighting the main fire as well.

As he piled kindling in he looked up at the windows, a sharp gust of wind rattling the shutters and seeping through the cracks in the house. It sounded like a bad storm. Merl frowned and grabbed the flint from its box on the lip of the hearth. Hopefully, he thought, this would be the last of the winter storms, and spring would break soon. A quick check on the stock of firewood had him noting to cut more before it started blizzarding.

First task done Merl retreated back to the kitchen and began pulling out some of the sparse potatoes he had left and scowled at one of his larger jars that usually held lentils but was far too low for his liking. Another gust swept through the house and Merl was glad he had dragged on his cloak this morning. He would have to make sure the children wore more layers today.

He had just turned to grab the pot when Stranger ducked through the doorway. Along with her basics, it seemed that Anamira had given her one of her knitted blankets to stand for a shawl, tied together through the wide knit by a scrap of leather at her shoulder. On a human, or most other monsters the loose thing would barely any good, but Stranger hardly seemed bothered by the chill cutting through the house.

He smiled at her. “How are you today, Stranger?” he asked slowly. 

He asked most mornings and the repetition seemed to help. Each day she would try to say something new, but when you had only a few words to choose from Merl understood her limitations.

Today she had a longer pause to think than usually, which he took for her trying to pick the word closest to what she meant. She answered with “Up.”

He looked over the pot at her from where he had set it on the bench and tried to fit the word with her hopeful smile.

Stranger had never held back when it came to offering a smile or laugh, but they had always seemed a little withdrawn and hesitant. Something had changed, Merl decided, and for the better.

“Ah!” He had just realised what he had thought. “You are feeling better? ‘Up’, ‘better’.” he paired the words with a small smile, and then a bigger smile, lifting himself up a little.

Stranger studied him for a moment before she laughed at his antics and nodded. “Yes,” she said “better.”

He didn’t know what exactly has been weighing on her since she had arrived, and he could see it still did, but it seemed as though she was accepting whatever trouble followed her. 

He didn’t wait for her to ask before pushing the pot in her direction. “Get water.” He told her, and though she had to motion to the water barrel to be certain she understood, she took the large iron pot easily and carried it outside to fill it with snow. Meanwhile Merl moved a cloth wrapped package to the centre table to start working on it.

Pulling out the three decent sized fish Merl couldn’t be more grateful to the Hutcher family. In return for having some of the children help on his farm they were given free milk and sometimes meat, a godsend when often he and Anamira had little to nothing to trade for food. Especially during the winter months, when their own small garden yielded them no food. The fish had come from the farmer’s only son and eldest child, who during autumn and winter trekked through the forests and foothills to hunt, trading the meat and fur in town. The young man had recently returned, a string of fish over his shoulder along with the rest of his spoils and Hutcher had generously given them to Marius and Dale yesterday eve.

They would be good in the pottage this morning, and with the potatoes and the last of their lentils would hopefully warm the children for the day. Maybe even for the night, he thought as he frowned at his shelves. Sometimes Merl wished he could build the orphanage a larder, and buy enough food the stock it full so that no mouth here was ever hungry.

Soon Stranger returned, hanging the pot in the hearth and joining him in preparing the pottage.

The windows rattled loudly and Stranger frowned towards them. Merl smiled at her worry. “Winter is almost over, I am hoping this is its final cry. When spring comes I’ll have to repair most of the windows, their shutters have been bad all year.” He would have done it before winter, but he had been rather busy with the four new children that had been left with them.

He continued to ramble at Stranger, and she listed attentively as she worked. Sometimes she would catch what he said, and reply back. Although most times it was mostly she to attempt to make jokes about him.

“-hit my head every time I go in there. The chickens don’t help of course, squawking themselves into a fuss. I think I'm just a little too tall for it, but Anamira has no trouble with the coop at all! I just don’t know how she does it.” He grumbled, stirring in the cut fish to the stew. 

Stranger stopped collecting the potato peels to think over what he said, before snapping out a laugh. “Merl tall? No. Small! Merl is small.”

He swatted playfully at the woman, and she laughed again and danced away, placing the scrap bucket on a low shelf to be fed to the chickens later. 

“Don’t you start that with me Stranger, I may just teach you your words wrong!” he threatened, but doubted she understood completely. She seemed to get the basics however and just kept laughing at him.

“What sort of ruckus is going on in here?” 

Merl shifted attention to Anamira, stood in the doorway, the children bundled curiously behind her. The bird monster smirked at them and he grinned brightly back.

“Stranger is calling me short! Can you believe it? It’s very rude.” He huffed.

Anamira glanced at stranger and the children giggled. “I most certainly can.” She flicked her tail feathers and sung a laugh, motioning to his height compared to her own.

Neither quite caught the mischievous grin in time. “Anamira short like Merl.”

Yellow eyes snapped to Stranger, and the children revelled behind the bird. 

With swift steps Anamira stood before the laughing Stranger. “I most certainly am not!” and with a decisive tug pulled the skeleton down to her height and cuffed her across the head. The children gasped dramatically, Botti and Jen calling out in exaggerated shock. His monster friend then smirked, huffed and herded the children out, shout orders for the tables to be set up for breakfast and chores to be done.

Stranger stood stooped for a moment, staring after Anamira. Merl thought maybe he should be a little worried by the silence, but then the skeletons red eyes lit up and a heaving laugh burst from her.

Merl thinks he rather likes this better, ‘up’, Stranger.


	9. Chapter 9

Normal: words Frisk knows  
_**Bold/Italic**_ : words Frisk doesn't know

* * *

 

 

 

Serving breakfast that morning was filled with giggles and mock glares. Frisk chuffed a laugh and glanced at Anamira. She had not at all expected the hit to her skull. Although she was far more surprised when the woman had dragged her down so she could properly reach.

Truthfully, Frisk had wanted to make a proper joke about songbirds and their size, or perhaps flirted a little, but she had no idea how she was supposed to get that across. In the end the whole joke had been butchered by her lack of competence in the language, but everyone had seemed to get it, and it had been quite hilarious if Frisk did say so herself.

Casting her gaze back around the table she took in the strange almost-family she was living with. She knew the names of all 12 of the children knew how they spent their days and what they liked and disliked. The human children (mostly the girls and Dale), Dale and the slightly younger Marius who were in their teenage years, and Jen and Sophie, liked to clamber around her after dinner and ask she brush and braid their hair. Dale would sit happily in front of her while she messily braided his dark hair (using the task to practice using all four of her arms), entertaining Jen and Sophie and whoever else happened to be around with word games. Marius huffed at Dale and often poked fun at his ‘manliness’ but the younger boy was fascinated by her hands for some reason, and she didn’t have much trouble offering one up to him to study and compare to his own.

The monsters where a little different and that stemmed pretty much entirely from their magic. It was hardly anything major, and it all seemed to just sink into the background as normal things do, but Frisk couldn’t help but notice. Sybil, the little Gryftrot, used her green magic often to use and carry things in place of hands. And often she would see some of the older monsters like Zuri, Mint, Elias and Benahfi play Fighting in the snow, throwing magic attacks at each other and laughing. Botti, the little black eyed monster, had wind magic and used it often when playing. The youngest two, Kuri, Zuri’s baby sibling, and Haliban, barely knew how to use their spoons, let along their magic.

Frisk wished she had taken up Alphys’ offer to learn about the different magic types monsters could have, because watching children to teach herself how to use her own magic without letting Merl and Anamira know was a trial and a half.

She shifted her attention to the two adults (which she supposed also included her?). Merl had been nothing but patient with her, even when she snapped at him. She had felt awful about that, it wasn’t his fault that she found learning the language so hard. She never had been good at the whole ‘learning’ thing, she was more of a ‘doer’. He had welcomed her so openly into his heart that she couldn’t help but love him.

Anamira on the other hand, while kind, had been more closed off than Merl. Frisk thinks it was probably a ‘don’t talk to strangers’ situation with her. Over the weeks, and especially when Frisk helped her with her chores, she found Anamira slowly warming up to her. It might have helped that Frisk had demanded (rather clumsily) that the bird take back her bed. Frisk now slept on a bed made up on the floor of Anamira’s room. The monster was fussy and commanding, but whenever Frisk would mess up her words or almost kick the chickens Anamira you huff at her scoldingly, fluff her feathers, and correct her. Every time, without fail. There wasn’t any exasperation, or irritation, just a firm hand tugging her back up.

They would be good friends, Frisk thought, if she could hold a proper conversation with the other monster.

In all? This wasn’t a bad place.

Frisk looked down at her pottage. The food was nothing like she remembered however, and Frisk missed pie. With a breath she resigned herself to her fate and picked up her spoon.

She wondered where the food went when she put it on her mouth.

“Stranger?”

Frisk looked up when she heard her designated name, not for the first time curious to what it means.

Merl motioned towards her, then the shuddering door outside. “ _ **Could**_ you chop wood?”

She took a moment to think through the question. She had heard ‘could’ before spoken to her, but no one had been able to properly explain it to her. It was another moment before she remembered ‘chop’, and then she answered with a nod and a ‘yes’.

The cold didn’t really bother her anymore, and the wind really only tickled annoyingly. It was the snow she didn’t like. She didn’t like it touching her. It was….weird. She glanced around the table. But better her than sending a kid out. The house was buffeted again by wind as if the emphasise her mental point.

Oh…

When had she stopped being a kid too?

She blinked (something she had always wondered about with the skeleton brothers, but found underwhelmingly similar to normal human blinking) and tried to pin point when that had happened, but couldn’t seem to.

While she was slowly accepting this Reset, the unnoticed transition unsettled her a little. She glanced uneasily around the table, as if they would notice her shift in emotion and pounce, but found nothing different. She sucked in an unnecessary breath, let it out, and forced herself to calm down.

She needed to stop being upset by these sorts of things. They weren’t going to stop any time soon.

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As soon as Frisk stepped outside into the brewing storm she was nearly thrown right back in. She stumbled about, noting that someone had closed the doors behind her, and tried to battle the wind so she could stand upright. The new height didn’t help her, she was still as clumsy as a newborn deer sometimes, and that was just when she walked (she wasn’t even going to think about what would happen if she tried running). Now that she was getting pushed around by the wind she had the annoying suspicion that she didn’t weigh as much as she wished she did.

Maybe if she were heavier, she wouldn’t nearly be blown away.

The undyed loose knit shawl Anamira gave her didn’t do much to stop the wind from reaching her. Another gust of wind didn’t hesitate to blow right through her.

She snorted at her own joke. And chuckled at all the way around the orphanage to the chopping block.

The long shawl did, however, keep most of the snow mercifully off her. Well, except her legs of course.

Pulling logs from the pile Frisk set about getting ready. She had only chopped the wood once before with Zuri and Elias, but had been very good at it according to the two younger monsters gushing. The axe was oddly easy to handle, held in all four of her hands, and reminded her of her trusty stick that she had fought with underground. When Zuri had chopped the wood before they grunted, scaled hands gripping hard to bring the axe through the log. The axe felt light to her though, and cracking it through the wood as fairly straight forward.

With a quick judge as to how much firewood was actually needed, Frisk began her task.

As the wind tugged at her clothes, her thoughts from last night tugged at her mind.

She had thought about it through the night and Frisk had (finally) decided that she should stop trying to say her name. For three, almost four weeks, Frisk has stubbornly refused to accept the facts: the Void had eaten her name. At least Frisk was pretty sure that was what happened.

Her knowledge of the Void was pretty limited. She had heard some things from Alphys and Sans that the Void could erase people entirely. She had never seen it happen but she didn’t doubt it was possible. Most of her experience was first hand though, it being the place she went to whenever she worked the Resets and Saves. You had to learn how to exist in the Void or it would destroy you. And she had spent a lot of time there.

Her very first Resets she had been protected by the Demon hiding inside her, but after she had forced it out she had to learn fast or drown.

In all likelihood she had slipped up sometime during the Reset as she forced herself back through time, and her name had been taken.

She twisted the split log she was cutting and swung again, using her right arms to throw the firewood in a pile to the side.

The fact of the matter was that her name didn’t exist anymore, and she needed to move on.

It was a whole new Reset, so it really isn’t so bad to have a whole new Frisk. Or Not-Frisk? Anyway, she won’t be Frisk anymore is the point.

She propped the last log up and heft the axe.

The thought that she was finally moving forward filled her with Determination.

And Swung.

 

 

The wind picked up, snow flurried, and Frisk tumbled to the side mid swing.

“Oof!” she grunted, left shoulders slammed into the building beside her

The axe sunk into the snow quickly building up around the block and her cloak whipped in the wind. Frisk growled and fought the wind to move back upright. She was really hating how easily the wind seemed to move her. For as tall as she now was she seemed infuriatingly light. While struggling with the wind Frisk wondered if she was light enough for the children to pick up, but brushed it off and focused.

She glanced at the last piece of wood and spent a fleeting glance down for the axe. She didn’t need convincing, when she saw that snow had already hidden it from view she made her decision to start lugging what she had cut inside.

With her arms filled with firewood she was pleased to find herself weighed down against the wind. And she found having more than two arms extremely useful in opening doors with her arms full.

The door slammed open with the wind and snow flew inside, so she didn’t bother taking the wood in further, and piled it beside the door so she could go back for a second load. Merl called out to her, and she could hear is worry as he asked “Good?” She smiled widely at him to show she was fine, and shut the door again.

She was buffeted again on her short trip, so much so that the wind lifted her off the ground a tiny way. It startled Frisk so much she cried out, arms flailing. In the few moments she was airborne she felt something starting in her chest, and as she thought desperately to return to the ground and not be blown around it snapped like a rubber band through her limbs. With a thump, her feet returned to the ground, her claws sinking through the snow and ice, and the wind didn’t budge her again.

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For the next twenty minutes or so (she wasn’t sure) Frisk picked ice out of her feet and legs, and wished she had some pants or leggings or even some socks to go under her two Basic dress! Anything to stop snow from getting between her bones and being just the most annoying thing ever.

She sat on the floor with her back to the main hearth. The wood stock under the loft ladder now much larger than before and she knew the one in the kitchen was the same.

Anamira was knitting again, Jen, Elias and a bashful Marius sitting around and listening as the matron instructed them. After a while Anamira would hand her knitting over and the children would take turns, and pass it around the circle.

Most of the other children sat close to the fire in a rough circle around two of the others. They were playing a very intense game that reminded Frisk of Rock Paper Scissors except with a song of some kind and more hand movements, and the loser seems to get a tap on the head. The children were rotating the players, and so far little Sybil seemed to be winning by twisting her front legs into similar shapes to the hand movements while sitting on her hind legs.

Dale and Botti, who seemed quite attached to her, where sitting with her. Dale had stolen a smaller bit of wood and had pulled a tiny knife from somewhere and was whittling away happily. Botti was using some old charcoal to draw pictures on the edge of the stone hearth. He had attempted to draw on her white bones for a moment but Merl had swiftly put an end to that idea.

If Frisk could ignore the howling wind that would often slip inside, or the rattling and creaking of the building that had Anamira’s big yellow eyes twitching, she would call it peaceful. And Frisk kind of liked it. She still wished that Flowey could be there with her, at the very least just so she could talk to someone. Or maybe Mom and Dad, so she could show them all the things she had learnt. Or anyone. Or everyone. But they weren’t. She ground her sharper canines and fidgeted with her lower hands a moment, and her ribs rose and sank as she forced herself to stop. Relax. She glanced around again.

Unless, by some miracle, she managed to figure out a way back into the void and through time this was the life she had to live. And Frisk needed to accept that, or risk falling into a pit she might never get out of.

Botti tapped her leg, and Frisk blinked out of her thoughts and down at him. He smiled, his big black eyes wide and proud (she thinks the little crosses over them were adorable) as he pointed to his latest drawing. Leaning down a little, using her lower arms to brace against the floor, she saw a tiny pair of monsters. One was very small, with crude little horns on its head. The other one was much bigger, with four stick arms and legs with two joints.

“ _ **This**_ one _ **is**_ you Stranger. _**And this**_ one _**is** _ me!” Botti said, half the words not understood, but Frisk could guess the meaning.

She stared for a while, and her heart, no, her soul clenched with emotion. She blinked hard and her upper hands carefully traced the little drawing. She shuddered and her body slumped, like this little scribble had taken a great weight off her shoulders.

The tall skeleton monster raised her head and looked around the room once more before returning to Botti’s drawing. Living here, she thinks, won’t be so bad.

She offered her hand to Botti, careful of her sharp claws, and held it like glass. She was tall, and light, but also very strong and had forced herself to learn quickly how to be gentle.

“Botti,” she said, tapping his picture, “Good.”

Botti beamed. She tapped his picture again and smiled back. “Good, good.” She wished she knew how to properly tell her tiny friend how much she loved his picture of them.

Botti didn’t release her hand, just used his other hand to draw and clutched her upper left hand with his own. She watched him, but her red eyes kept being drawn to the drawing of her.

This was who she was now.

It wasn’t a shock. No leap to reach the conclusion. It settled around her shoulders like a jacket during a wake. Something was passing, and something was being born.

She tugged on Botti’s hand and tapped a finger gently against the picture of himself.

“Botti.” She said firmly, looking him in the eye. The monster nodded, his brow furrowing. She tapped the picture of herself and opened her mouth. “….” Botti grew serious, then his face lit with wonder as if understanding what was about was happen.

She closed her mouth, steeled herself, and tapped again. The words slipped out like water. Like her own name

“Fixed System.”

Her very own name.  
 


	10. Chapter 10

_There was an icy darkness. A dripping, icy, infectious darkness._

_The energy of the Barrier pulsed around them. It distorted the world, making it seem endless in all directions. They had to be careful, because it was just an illusion and the walls of the cave were still there somewhere._

_But Frisk and Flowey had been in this room so many times. They had it mapped to the tiniest rock._

_They can’t make mistakes. This has to be it._

_Frisk had no hope for surviving, only winning. Only for them._

_The Demon oozed around them. It would never be truly physical without a host, but it could only act outside the Barrier, and was forced to make do._

_It was good for them. Frisk and Flowey had worked hard to free its previous host, to get the Demon like this._

_Like this, where they could hurt it. Destroy it._

_Frisks tiny body popped and smoked. Her hair was singed and clothes dusty. Determination crackled painfully around her, and borrowed magic simmered in her eyes._

_Flowey’s vines arched through the ground around him. Six souls hovered around his petals and his face twisted cruelly as the Demon drew closer._

_This was it._

_The Demon will be destroyed._

_Or Frisk, and everyone she loved, will be._


	11. Chapter 11

The cry of a child is what drew Merl from his repairs. He was sitting at the main table where it was pushed against the wall so with a swift sweep could located the source of the cry.

Botti had wide eyes, and his hands covered his mouth. He stared at Stranger, and Merl worried for just a moment that something had happened. Then he glanced at Dale, who sat beside them and the boy looked equally shocked but a smile was spreading across his face.

Then Botti was laughing! The boy leapt to his feet and danced around the fire.

“Calm yourself Botti!” Anamira scolded, but it hardly slowed the child and he returned to Stranger to grab her offered hands.

“Fixed System!” Botti cried. The strange words seemed like sweet fruit on the child’s tongue.

“Fixed System!”

“Botti!” Merl called sternly, standing.

Botti stopped and bounced on his feet. Dale was laughing now and piped up.

“What an odd name, but really, after so long its better than Stranger.”

Merl blinked at that, and exchanged a glance with Anamira, then finally locking eyes with Stranger.

The skeleton rose to her full height, her expression aware in a way he had never seen before. She looked down at him determinedly. It was a look he had never seen on a monster before.

“Stranger?”

“No.” she cut in sternly, hands signing along. Both right arms tapped her chest and her red ring eyes glowed. “Fixed System.”

Understanding came fast and he nodded. “It is nice to meet you, Fixed System.” He smiled.

Fixed System, smiled, seeming to understand his gesture, and nodded.

Her words were accented in a way he couldn’t identify, they always were, but it was most noticeable with proper sentences.

“It is nice to meet you, Merl.” It was slow, as she focused on mimicking some of the words. But she was proud of herself for it, and Merl was too.

“I don’t know if it’s the name her curse ate, or a new one, but I'm glad we have it all the same. Stranger is hardly an appropriate name.” Merl scoffed at his friend, and leant around Fixed System to glare at her.

“It was a perfectly fine name.” No longer being focused on, Fixed System let the children tug her back to the floor.

“And it is not because you chose it that you think that hmm?” she raised a green brow and resumed her knitting.

Merl pouted. “Of course not!”

“I’m sure.”

By now Anamira had been abandoned by her three watchers, more excited by Strangers new name. So Merl took it upon himself to wander over and stand behind her shoulder, watching Stranger, Fixed System, the skeleton monster they took in near a month ago be swamped by children calling her name.

“I... I don’t know what we’ll do with her.” He said wearily. He and Anamira had agreed that it would be best to let Stranger stay at least until spring started.

At first Anamira had wanted to take her into Gatehall proper, at the very least to ease their own burden, at the most to take the skeleton to the doctor in town. Human he may be, but the doctor would know better how to care for someone in Strangers condition.

No, she had a name now. He needs to use it. Fixed System, he thought, what an odd name. But he had heard stranger.

In the end Merl hadn’t taken her to town, especially in her…. Condition. They had been the ones to find her, it was their responsibility to care for her. He had worried, after seeing how she reacted even to children. Wary and cautious, as if she had never seen anything like them before. And when she had scratched four deep gouges in the kitchen table and had been so distressed by it, becoming self-conscious and hesitant to touch anyone and anything. As if she hadn’t been aware of her own strength. He wanted to know, but sometimes he wondered if asking wouldn’t just hurt her more.

“We both agreed, once spring comes, take her into town. She can get proper help there.” Anamira had stopped knitting and just watched with him. Benahfi, Zuri and Dale where attempting to teach Fixed System their game.

Over the past few weeks however Merl had found the new monster worming her way into their lives. And their hearts. He was a kind man, or thought himself so, but he held no illusions about strangers. You never know who might be passing by, or who might take advantage of kindness. Yet not once could he recall their guest stepping out of line, she even had gone so far as to demand to do chores for them. Even that very first day when he had fed her, Merl could see in her eyes she had wanted more, but hadn’t made a single motion to ask.

Fixed System offered no complaint, asked nothing in return for her work, and was astoundingly careful with the children in their care.

And Merl rather liked her company. She may be having a hard time grasping the language, but she persevered. Her humour was quick to rise and he had seen her spare none of them her smile. She was blunt. She seemed entirely unaware of how close to someone was too close. She had no idea how to use a flint. Or wear Basics. And yet she had this glint in her eyes, a hardness he couldn’t pin down. This woman would do anything if she had to. But not once had he seen that hardness directed at them, and that sealed his care for her.

“Or she could stay here.”

Merl looked down. Anamira stared intently at their wards. “We have been taking in twice as many children this last year and as we are we will run ourselves into the ground. Taking all the children with us. If we don’t find some way to ease the burden then all our work to give these children a safe home will be for nothing. Yes, it’s another mouth to feed, a body to clothe, but Fixed System is a good monster. She cares about the children, and I think that if we offer she would stay here with us.”

Merl thought over his old friends words. Since the day they built the orphanage it had just been Merl and Anamira. Usually they had no more than five or six children, but things are changing. There is an unspoken tension whispered about by travellers. He can only hope it dies down soon. Now they have twelve children to care for, and barely the resources to keep them healthy, clothed, and fed. And Merl is getting older, past forty now he couldn’t trade hard labour for food or fabric like he used to. Not to the extent they needed at least.

“What about her own life? Surely there is someone she misses? Or wants to return to?”

“If there was anyone that she truly wished to return to I have no doubt she would have already done so.” Anamira turned her sharp eyes to him. And really, how was he supposed to argue with her?

If Fixed System were to stay with them they would have an extra set (two sets) of hands to work. More eyes to watch, and more opportunities to fill the larder and clothe the children. And, he thought grimly, she would look quite striking should anyone unsavoury come passing by.

“We’ll ask. When spring comes, we’ll ask.”

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Fixed System had been right: the game was just like rock paper scissors. Except much more intense than she had ever played it. Her legs folded under herself and she used all her hands to play. The rounds were fast paced, singing what she assumed were nonsense words before choosing your shape. The winner tapped the loser on the head twice, and the aim was to win three times in a row.

However, it would seem that everyone had decided that she would stay playing, and they would all take turns versing her. Fixed System lost most rounds.

They were left to play for a while, and Fixed System laughed as the kids yelled over the hand game excitedly. Eventually however Anamira called out and Marius, Elias and Jen grudgingly returned to her and resumed their knitting. Merl too called out for the other children to come to him so they can get their chores.

There was a round of grumbling, and what she could only assume where complaints, as Merl doled out work. Some children wandered upstairs to clean floors and make beds, some while others wandered into the kitchen to clean dishes. After all the others were set to work the older human made his way to her.

“Fixed System.” He said her name with a sort of gentle pride. He looked odd for a moment, then spoke again, a pleased glint in his eyes. “Fix.”

Fixed System blinked, taking a moment to realise what had been said. A shortening of her new name, a nickname? She smiled and laughed at Merl (her friend?) and rose to stand before him. She didn’t mind the name.

“ _Your job is to sweep the_ floor.” The words went over her head but the broom passed to her was enough to understand. Fix huffed jokingly at Merl and swept the broom over his feet until he hopped away.

Then she got to work.

As the day wore on the storm outside grew worse and worse. It shook the doors and windows, and seeped through the walls. Anamira kept everyone away from the doors and windows, and that they stayed either in the main room or kitchen where the fires warmth could reach. Most of the children kept at their chores while the younger ones, like Haliben, Kuri, Botti, Jen and Sophie, stayed under the watchful eyes of Zuri and Anamira by the main rooms fire where they could keep warm.

Fix did any chore Merl asked of her, even taking some from the kids, until there was nothing left to do but wait out the day. Earlier she and Dale had gone upstairs to get the blankets off the beds to bring downstairs, and now she fixed one around the shoulders of Sybil and Botti before retreating into the kitchen with Merl to fix lunch.

Merl was already setting up the ingredients to make it. Already on the centre table was a large mixing bowl and a jug filled with water as well as a cloth package that Fix knew to contain the last of their dried cheese. Fix took her place on the opposite side of the high table to the fire and began slicing the cheese with one of the two small knives kept in the kitchen.

Over the past weeks Fix has spent a lot of her time in the kitchen with Merl trying to learn her words. After that first day of Merl working and her sitting and repeating words Fix had offered to help. Since then Merl had taught her to cook. She wasn’t that good, and still often needed instruction, hesitant to mess anything up, but it reminded her of Toriel and Papyrus, so dove right in. Merl still walked her though new and old words as they worked, but Fix was still terrible at it. She was learning though. Very slowly.

Merl thumped one of the larger jars onto the table and unwound its cloth lid. Inside Fix knew there was a flour of some kind, but she had a feeling it wasn’t wheat. Beside it was one of their smallest jars, which held salt. Merl only used the salt for making bread and Fix learnt quickly that it was quite precious.

Lunch today was simple, warm bread and cheese. Fix would offer to knead the dough but after the first time she had tried she now held a healthy disgust for the process (it took hours to extract from the cracks in her hand bones). The dough itself is much simpler than Fix had thought bread was. No yeast or butter (neither of which Fix has seen here), just flour, salt and water. Sometimes Fix saw him putting milk in the mixture (if they had any) but not this time. After the dough was worked he split it in two and made two thick disks. At first Fix had been fascinated when Merl slapped the bread he had made right into the raised kitchen hearth beside the fire. Now she was used to the process, and just reminded herself to check it occasionally (the heat of the fire not bothering her as much as it did Merl).

They passed the time with teaching her more of the language.

“I clean floor.”

“Almost. ‘I cleaned the floor’. Like that.”

“You repair clothes.”

“Yes! That’s very good.”

“Small Merl word is dirt!”

“It wouldn’t be ‘dirt’ if you weren’t so stubborn about it! And I am not small, you are just tall!”

They didn’t bother with the tables for lunch (they never did) and just ate it around the hearth. The bread didn’t rise, so it was dense and filling, and the cheese was sharp and salty. It was all washed down with water in wooden cups. The only issue was tiny Haliben fussing and refusing to eat his torn up bread, but Merl swiftly convinced the young monster with practised ease.

The rest of the day was spent in relative quiet, no one straying far from the main room. The only ones that did were the humans when they needed to use the bathroom. Something Fix was eternally grateful for, with her being a monster now she didn’t really need to use a toilet anymore. It had been odd when she first realised, then she saw what passed at the orphanage as a toilet and nearly fainted with relief. A pit style outhouse that was a fair distance from the house. Fix didn’t even want to think what it was like in the summer.

But they still needed it, and Fix wasn’t going to let anyone go out into the blizzard alone. Of all the humans it was poor Marius that went out at least three times, growing more reluctant with each one.

The wind only bothered her for a moment when she stepped out, before she felt that same brimming irritation (and a little fear) snap through her bones and her feet connecting solidly with the ground. She made sure to walk close to Marius (as much good as it did with her thin bones) and kept the blanket tucked around him through the walk each time. And when they returned Fix would bundle him close to the fire and comb ice from his hair with her claws before it melted down his neck.

By the time dinner had passed and it was nearing time for bed the wind had died down slightly, the worst of the storm passing. It seemed to be a unanimous decision that all the children would sleep downstairs around the fire tonight just in case. The youngest ones and Marius seem especially pleased with the plan and wasted no time huddling close and drifting off. Fix wasn’t feeling particularly tired yet, and encouraged Anamira to go sleep in her own bed, while she and Merl kept the fire going and an eye on the kids for a while more.

In the end Fix had been chosen as a bed and pillow by Bottie, Jen and Zurri, so decided it was best if she just slept out in the main room. Laying back on the wooden floor and half smothered in human and monster children Fix thinks that she may not get much sleep. No matter how much she wanted to sprawl out in ways that would disturb the children, she stayed still, and slept.  
 


	12. Chapter 12

“-------------“

“--------------------!”

Fix was pulled from sleep by words she didn’t have the coherence to understand. Tiny hands were shaking her arm and worried voices whispered over her head.

“Fix! _Wake_ up!”

Her eyes snapped open and instinct finally woke her. Her arms whipped out and grabbed the one speaking and she snapped upright, legs coiling and ready to jump up.

“Fix!”

Dale stared worriedly from her sharp claws and Fix instantly released him, making an apologetic noise. The teen opened his mouth, as if to speak and speak quickly, but then his eyes flashed over her as if remembering exactly who he was trying to talk to.

“Marius is not good.” He said simply and Fixed frowned at him. His hair was ruffled and he looked tired.

What did he mean Marius wasn’t good? She caste her eyes around the room, quickly remembering that she was in the main room, and noted that most of the children were still asleep. Jen and Botti, who had been sleeping on her, had been disturbed when she sat up and she pet their heads in apology. Zuri however was not by her anymore, but instead across the fire, sitting beside a laying Marius and blocking most of him from her view. Zuri looked just as worried as Dale.

“Dale.” Fix turned back to him, confused but not liking the tension she could feel.

The boy just frowned, obviously irritated that he couldn’t convey what he wanted, and pulled her arm. She wasted no time in being pulled over to the others.

As she stepped over sleeping children Fix realised that it was quiet. She glanced towards the closed windows and doors, noting to grey of pre-dawn seeping through and the. The storm must have passed during the night. New logs had been put on the fire as well, and only recently too, the fire only just starting to blacken them.

Zuri knelt beside a huddle Marius, keeping the multiple blankets that Dale and Zuri must have given him tucked around him. Marius himself was shivering violently, his breathe slightly wheezing and his skin pale. Fix’s eyes widened and she wasted no time in kneeling down and pushing a hand against younger teens forehead.

Fix nearly snarled when the action barely gave her any information, her bones not nearly as sensitive to temperature as her human skin had been. She turned to Dale, who had sat down next to her and motioned to Marius.

“Hand on head.” She told him sternly. Dale’s eyes widened at her sharp attention and nodded, doing as she asked.

“Hot.” Came the short reply. Fix huffed, once again cursing her deficiency in learning.

She focused back down on Marius, his eyes opening and Fix was glad to see they weren’t hazy. He coughed a little, eyes tired, and mumbled something into his blankets. A pointed order sent Zuri to get some water from the barrel in the kitchen while Fix sat more comfortably beside the sick boy.

Fix wasn’t a healer, not like her mother had been, and her knowledge of human illness was not the best. But she knew some. Keep them warm and hydrated and fed. She didn’t think he had the flu (although she wouldn’t know how to tell the difference) but hoped it was just a day cold from the bad weather yesterday. For now though, she would stay by him.

88888888888888888888888888888888888

  
Merl woke at the same time he did every other day with the pleasant sound of bird outside, telling him the storm had passed. His went through his morning rituals slowly, enjoying the unusual warmth that seeped into his room. Must be Fix, he thought, keeping the fire alive. He chuckled at the memory of the giant monster being forcibly snuggled by children. Whenever they asked anything of her she would just roll right over.

Of course when he made his way out into the main room his good mood instantly lowered. On the other side of the room sat Fix, both her right hands carding through his short hair as he shivered. Her mouth was moving, and the odd words of her own tongue whispered gently out in some tune or another. Dale sat beside her, his carving knife and current project in hand but still as he stared into the fire. Some of the other children were up but Zuri kept them from crowding Marius.

He quickly made his way over and crouched to examine the poor boy closer.

“His coughing woke me. He’s been like this since before sunrise. I think going outside yesterday did it.” Dale spoke, still clutching his block and knife.

“Why didn’t you come wake me?” he was curious. Coughs and fever weren’t uncommon during winter, but can quickly get worse if not kept in check. Or so his experience said.

“I woke Fixed System. I… I was going to wake you as well but she took charge. She seemed to know what to do.” Merl blinked at Dale. It spoke wonders to how much the children already trusted the tall skeleton, and not just liked her, that they had gone to her when one of them was hurting.

“What did she do?” he asked, tilting Marius’s face towards himself. Dark eyes blinked up at him before closing again. Aware, but tired.

“She had me feel his forehead, don’t think skeletons feel temperature like we do. Then she had me get him water, and has made sure he always has some. Now she’s just watching.” Dale turned his gaze up to Fix, her red rings glancing at him and giving a reassuring smile before turning back to the boy she was tending. She had stopped humming as they spoke, perhaps not to bother them.

Merl nodded, and went about his own examination of Marius. Fever and chills, and a bad cough. Right now the cough was dry, and Merl could only hope that it stayed that way and Marius would get better as the day continues, as was sometimes the way of these things.

Right now there was not much more he could do that Fix had not already done. He sorely wished he had kept one of the fish from yesterday to make a proper broth, but potatoes and whatever little they have left would have to do. Something warm will do the child good.

As the day wore on towards breakfast then lunch, outside looking clearer and clearer, Marius got worse and worse. And Merl watched as the children got more and more worried, yet Fixed System stayed the same. She sat strong beside Marius, first just keeping him company when she wasn’t doing chores, then when lunch passed and his fever rose soothed the fever dreams that followed.

“If he gets worse through the night,” Anamira commented, helping him clean up after lunch. “I will take him to the doctor in town. We need more food anyway, and I have my crafts to trade.”


	13. Chapter 13

Words Fix knows

_Words Fix doesn't know_

Hands

 

* * *

 

Going to the village was….procedural, Fix thinks. After getting dressed Dale combs his fingers through his hair in an attempt to neaten it. Anamira helps Marius with his clothes, still hazy with fever as he is. Fixed System wraps the shawl Anamira gave her around her shoulders in an attempt to look a little more put together and stars down at her bare feet. Would she need shoes? What sort of shoes would she even wear? When no one mentions it Fix puts the thought aside.

Just as they are leaving Anamira scoops up a large basket packed with many things. Scarves and gloves she and the other children have knitted, toys Dale has carved, a few tools for the garden that need repairing, and a few other things Fix is sure.

As they walk past the lamp post that brought her here Fix, Anamira, Dale and Marius are waved off with warm shouts. She was sure she would have understood them if her mind wasn't whirling with excitement, both good and bad.

What was the village like? The people? Would they notice her? Would it be mostly humans or mostly monsters? What did she want more? So many questions jittering through her and making her bones rattle (an unexpected experience, and while it wasn't unpleasant it was a little strange). When the others had noticed her nerves they had smiled, spoken softly and slowly so she would understand (mostly) and tried to ease her anxiety. Dale smiled at her from his place under Marius’s arms, supporting the ill boy and Anamira reached up and patted her shoulder.

She could see the village from the orphanage, a brown and white mound rising in the near distance. They followed a road and Fix gazed around, curious. It was all so different from her memories. She looked behind them, at the road stretching back past the orphanage that she had first followed, and the great mountain range of which Ebbot was a part of settled on the horizon around them. The road was snow covered, dirt and mud below that peeking out occasionally. Two rivets dug through it, thin and packed down. Carts, Fix thinks. They had passed a handful of farms, and as they grew nearer Fix heard the sound of running water. Twisting her head she tried to find the source, somewhere to her right she thinks, between Gatehall and Ebbot. Dale notices and waves to catch her gaze.

“ _It's the river._ ” he says.

She narrows her eyes at him then towards the trickle of water she couldn't see.

“ _River.”_ He says again

“River.” She mimics back, and repeats the new words again and again in her mind.

Not much longer and the three of them that are fully aware notice Marius stumbling, sweating and heaving as he leant heavily on a struggling Dale. They stop and sit him on the low cobbled stone wall that lines the path now. Anamira goes first, stomping down the snow, her leathery yellow feet unbothered by it like Fix who had tried to walk in the packed ruts where loose snow couldn't slip between her bones.

Dale sat beside Marius, arm around him to stop him from toppling backwards. Anamira leant her basket on the wall and swept her wards sweat damp hair out of his face, clicking her beak and huffing at him. Marius gazed foggily back and smiled apologetically at her. After resting for a few minutes they all stood back up but this time Fix shooed away Dale and crouched with her back to Marius, the fingers of her lower hands wiggling invitingly. If she could easily carry armfuls of wood, Fix figured, why not a human teenager? And she was right. Marius draped his arms over her shoulders and she gripped them gently, her lower hands scooping up his legs, keeping them off what was probably the uncomfortable rise of her pelvis. He was lighter than an armful of wood, and she didn't really notice him all that much, weight wise that is. As they walked he would shift from side to side and Fix wondered if her spine was bothering him, but Marius never complained.

That was how they arrived at Gatehall. No sign to welcome them, no boundaries to mark the town. The buildings just suddenly grew denser, the streets muddier and the snow pushed between buildings, people (both monster and human, but mostly monster) walked about, shifting from place to place. From what Fix could see the town was long rather than all clumped together, built along one wide main street that lead to a plaza. They passed a little shed with a well in it in the open space between houses as they entered, and Fix wondered why the well needed so much space. Further down the street Fix could see the plaza better.

What drew her gaze was a large hall, with big doors and carvings along the frames. The doors were open, and huge shutter windows were propped open with wooden supports revealing stalls set up in the massive open space. More stalls spilled out into the plaza. It wasn't packed, which Fix thought was perhaps the oddest thing, in fact there really wasn't that many stalls at all, they were simply all spread out. Apart from the stalls most of the buildings in the plaza seemed to be stores, wooden signs jutting from their fronts stating their purpose.

And while Fix was very curious about the town her friends belonged to, she was not so enthralled as to ignore the stares. From before they even stepped into the town proper Fix had seen them. While the town was mostly monsters and technically she shouldn't stick out all that much, it's seemed like everyone was staring at her. They must be curious, she thinks, the town was small, very small and she thinks that it's the kind of place where people spend their entire lives, that it's not a place where new faces come often. She could see them whispering, hurrying over to someone if they were alone to mutter and shoot glances her way. Anamira huffed at them and held her head high, never even sparing them a glance. Dale shifted a little closer to her, smiling up at her.

They walked down the main road and to the other side of the plaza, where a building was turned away from them, the entrance on a side street. But when Fix saw the house properly she felt air rush through her. The building was L-shaped and the little courtyard was near overflowing with plants. A tree grew against the house, bushes and ferns and shrubs, plants of all sorts had been carefully tended so the snow didn’t smother them. Empty wooden racks that would have been about shoulder height on an average human were built beside a path leading to the door. Surrounding it all was a little stick fence, an obvious attempt at keeping the plants from spilling out into the street. Looking at the place, Fix knew it would be beautiful when spring got going.

It was here however that Anamira stopped. Plopping down her basket she turned Fix, motioning her to put down Marius. Looking between the bird and the building Fix quirked a brow and nodded to the building, as if to say ‘are you sure?’

Anamira of course only huffed at her and motioned again. “Give Marius to Dale.” She said, fists on hips. Sighing, perhaps a little petulant, Fix did so. Marius muttered a little at the shift, but with a nod Dale started to walk him into the large garden. Fixed System however was now focused again on Anamira, who was reaching through her basket. First she pulled out a wrapped bundle of cloth that clanked together as it was handed to her. As Anamira went back to her basket Fix lifted a corner of fabric to peek at her new burden. Inside was the broken tools. Fix frowned at them, grinding her fangs a little and not liking where this was going. Merl had explained it to her a little last night when the tools had been gathered up, that the tools needed to be fixed, “ _repaired”_ was the word he used and had drawn a little scribble of crossed tools drawn with charcoal on the main hearth. Now Fix didn’t know exactly how they were going to get them repaired but she had a bad feeling. Maybe she should have payed a little more attention to Merl, instead of Jen’s hair.

When Anamira handed her three little brown coins, tucking them into the bundle, that feeling only got worse.

“What, no, Anamira what are you doing.” Panic shot through her. Anamira was collecting her basket back up, and Fix had said all of that in the wrong language. “Ana no. uh-uh come? Anamira come with Fix? Me? Anamira…” she stumbled, looking pleadingly at her friend.

Anamira only chuckled at her.

Fix sputtered and tried stringing together some other words, empty upper arms flapping and signing clumsily. Warm feathers gripped her shoulder.

“Stop Fixed System.” She stopped. “Good. You are good. It _will_ _be_ good, alright?” and really, how could Fix say no to the proud golden eyes looking up at her.

Her whole body slumped and she scoffed good naturedly at Anamira before looking away sulkily. Anamira just laughed and pushed her shoulder a little, a dismissal, before following Dale and Marius into the house with the garden.

The door shut behind her, and Fixed System was left standing in the street.

She looked down at her burden. Her task? It was a probably a task. She growled at the bundle (all _its_ fault), before taking stock. Alright, what has she got? Broken tools, coins, and some half remembered knowledge. The little scribble Merl had done was probably important, so she tried to remember that first and held it in her mind. Would she need to know the exact tools, she wonders? She didn’t know. Maybe? Would it be important? She shifted from foot to foot before deciding that perhaps if she walked around she could just…find what she needed.

She moved back into the plaza first, moving slowly, which she quickly found a little hard when her legs were so long. She worried at her shawl with her free upper hands, twisting her claws through the holes in the knit. Moving back towards the stalls Fix scanned whatever signs she could see, hoping to see her target.

As she got closer to the large hall and the stalls Fix noticed the staring again. With the others no longer with her they seemed to grow bolder, staring longer. She thought that maybe staring back would be rude, but decided to do it anyway. Her memories of monsters on the surface with humans was a little hazy, the Reset being so long ago, and this was nothing like it at all. Before humans had been ever wary, nervous of monsters, and the monsters had seen that and been cautious in return. Back then she had worked hard to change how the two races saw each other, and maybe things would have turned out alright. Now, in this time, there was none of that. Monsters and humans seemed to live here in perfect harmony, and it warmed Fix’s heart (soul?).

It made her wonder though.

What could have made them fight?

Fix shook off the thought as the shouts of the plaza broke through her contemplations. She went back to studying her surroundings.

She was among the stalls now, and at high risk of forgetting her task and the broken tools in her hands. Some stalls were make shift tables, others were stacks of crates. One had animals; chickens and a goat. Another was selling hides and leathers and other animal parts. The one thing she noticed was that all the stalls that were outside the hall…well… they stank. Not horribly, of course, with the cold especially. But the thick scent of animals, meats, leathers, and other things Fix was certain she couldn’t name, would have been a disaster if indoors. It was as she was morbidly inspecting a large pair of antlers that someone finally spoke to her.

Surprisingly enough it was the monster who owned the stall (at least she assumed so).                       

“ _Ah,_ good morning _!_ Don’t get _many new faces around here._ What _can_ I _do_ for you _.”_ The monster was rather short and looked suspiciously dog like.

And of course Fix didn’t nearly drop her bundle of tools in her shock.

“Uh…”

Fix stared at the monster and tried to make her brain (not brain?) work. She knew some of those words, but they were in sentences she hadn’t heard before and it threw her off. She blinked at him and shifted nervously.

“Um…” the dog monster tilted his head. “…Yes?”

Let it be known that Fixed System is an idiot.

The monster blinked at her and barked (Fix thought it was funny) out a laugh. It turned awkward at the end but Fix was more focused on how to salvage this wreck.

“ _Now_ that _was_ _something_ I’ve never _heard before_!” The vendor breathed one last chuckle before his muzzle took on a salesman smile. “ _But truly ma’am_ , is _there something_ I can do for you?” his tone had shifted, something she remembered from a past reset. A busy worker, a busy worker that _you_ are holding up.

Fix blinked, and while a tiny bit of her was irritated by the smile and tone, another part of her instantly felt bad because here she was wasting this monsters time with her fumbling. She quickly tried to scan her memory for a way to apologise but came up blank. She thinks maybe Merl had tried to show her at some point, but there was only so much Fix could get across with pointing and miming. Instead she tried to answer his question.

“Yes.” Fix sputtered, thinking a little _too_ fast. “Ah! No! No, no do for me.” She tried to flap her hands, tangling her upper pair in her shawl in her nerves and slipping on her bundle with her lower. This left her with her tools in the mud and her finger bones tangled in wool, and clicking her teeth in frustration. For the most part, her lack of the common language could be worked around with everyone at the orphanage, and even almost two months of being in this time she was still learning. Here she felt like an idiot (Flowey would laugh at her for sure).

But just like that things shifted. The vendor startled and seemed to be processing her words. Someone was scooping up her tools, wrapping them back up as she untangled herself. It was another monster, a bunny, which handed her back her tools. He was wrapped up in a worn coat and thick scarf. He had spoken a few words to the vendor, and the dog suddenly seemed to understand something.

With her bundle back in her arms the bunny monster gently touched her elbow and gestured for her to follow him. They didn’t go far, just out of the way a bit. Fix looked down at her saviour. His straw coloured fur seemed better suited for summer time, she thinks.

“Are you _alright?_ ”

The bunny spoke slowly, pronouncing his words clearly. While the words were muddled the meaning was clear to her in the expression on his face, the set of his body. Fix released a breath (not that she could breathe, really), her bones relaxing.

“I am good.” She smiled at the bunny, and he beamed back.

“You _live_ with Anamira and Merl _at the orphanage yes?”_

She perked at the names and her focus narrowed on the monster before her. Does he know her somehow? If it were her proper time, and this town were larger, she would have wondered how he knew. But as it was he probably saw then come to town.

“ _Faren_ Hutcher _buys_ wood _from_ me, he _told_ me _about_ you.”

Hutcher? Hutcher from down the road? Well that is another explanation. It would also explain the slow speaking. Fix has no doubt that the children talked about her to their neighbour, and the farmer has obviously told this monster.

Fix huffed and nodded to his previous question. He nodded back. It was a little awkward but not as bad as the stall owner. Fix turned her gaze down to her bundle, shifting it in her hands when she got a brilliant idea. She motioned the bundle of tools to the bunny, and threw back her memory to what Merl had said last night.

“Re…uh, Re-pair? I take…um...” Dammit, she sounded like an idiot!

But the bunny lit up with understanding, and smiled encouragingly at her.

“You _need to_ repair the _tools_?”

“Repair the tools.” She repeated, the word ‘tools’ sounding familiar. “Yes, for Anamira.”

And just like that things got better. With another touch to her elbow her new companion led her back through the plaza, towards the doctors home, and then past it (wow, way to go exactly the wrong way Fix). The bunny kept up some sort of commentary on the short walk, and Fix tried to pay attention but most of the words were unfamiliar to her. He was probably pointing out parts of the town, from how he was gesturing. The only thing she got from the conversation was his name.

“Oriol.” He had said, nodding his head towards her.

“Fixed System.” She had replied, copying his nod.

In a few short minutes they had reached the other end of the town. The buildings here were a little more spread, obviously places of work instead of homes. The one along the very edge of town, furthest from any other building, had some stink or other coming from it. Even dulled over the distance it smelled awful. But her focus quickly shifted to a closer stone building. Smoke rose from a large chimney on its side and a rhythmic clang could be heard from inside. And there, swinging from the storefront, was the image of crossed tools.

She jerked her attention back to the bunny, Oriol. Had he said something? Oriol smiled indulgently at her. He _had_! He motioned to the store she wanted.

“Blacksmith.” He said, and she repeated.

Another nod, a smile, and Oriol took his leave. She watched him go further down the street and into a small fenced yard, an axe lodged into a stump to one side, piles of wood on the other.

And then it was just her and the blacksmith.

Fix clutched her bundle tighter, bones rattling softly and upper hands flapping slightly. She moved to the front of the store.  There was a large wooden door, but she kept her attention on a wide serving window. It had a benchtop to put things on, and through it she could see partway inside. She could see an anvil, and an abnormally large hearth. The banging she could hear was being made by who she could only guess was the blacksmith. A huge black coal monster. Threads of red heat spider webbed across its stone-like body as it pounded away at the anvil. They glanced at her as she put her tools on the benchtop, and Fix jumped when the other monster barked something harshly at her.

Fix was about to start stumbling over her words again when she heard another shout from somewhere else in the shop. A reply. So they weren’t speaking to her? Good, she was sure she was going to make a fool of herself again.

Of course it as then, when she was relaxing, that the other voice moved into the large main room and made his way towards her. And suddenly all words left her.

It was him. She knew it was, had seen him so often underground. He was like a sanctuary then, and seeing him now was like seeing water in a desert. Which was a little ironic since he didn’t touch the stuff.

Grillby was younger, not so much looked younger, but an aura. He felt younger. He wore a scuffed leather apron and thick leather gloves. Plain dark brown pants and patched, undyed tunic with the sleeves rolled up. The fire elemental leant against the serving window opposite her, looking bored.

“Good _day,_ what _can_ I do for you _?”_ His voice was like a crackling fire. Fix had heard it only once before. (Sweet stars, what is happening?)

So stunned the words she understood flew right by her. And her reply spilled out of her mouth like goo. Unidentifiable goo.

Her hands flapped and her stunned self tried to pull her mind back into gear. She was staring too much, too hard, oh stars is she even using the right language? As she stumbled Grillby’s eyes got wider (he doesn’t have glasses, how odd) and a brow raised at her, but he waited patiently, didn’t grow annoyed as she said _words_.

The coal monster on the other hand….

“ _Say_ what you _want, fool! Or leave my forge_!”

Fix jumped slightly at the blacksmiths shout, and the teeth snapped shut, grinding her fangs. Her flapping hands took over, signing out an apology with all four of them.

Her attention snapped when Grillby stood straighter suddenly, focus locked on her hands. There was a moment as they both watched each other, then Grillby raised his own hands and to Fix’s immense delight, signed back.

“You speak Hands?”

And for the first time since the Reset, Fix was truly happy. Like a switch was flicked everything changed. Her face lit up, a smile spreading over her jaw, her posture straightened from the hunched one she had kept around Merl and Anamira, and her eyes burned with a sudden determination.

Grillby must have noticed the change, as the interest in his face turned into fascination.

“I do! No one I’ve met so far has known it! I’m so sorry for going on like that but the language is hard and I'm still learning, and, well it’s _very hard_. I've been learning for a month now but I'm still no better than a toddler, it’s infuriating really, and being sent off into town by myself has made everything I know just fall right out of my head. And oh, I must be rambling, sorry, it’s just I haven’t been able to talk to anyone properly in such a long time and I’ll just stop now I guess… ”

Grillby stared for a moment, hands raised to reply. Then he was laughed, like popping wood, and Fix grinned and chuckled along.

“Slow down. It’s fine, truly. And don’t mind Gola, he meant no offense. Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” Grillby motioned towards her invitingly.

Perking, Fix pushed the tool bundle over, signing as she did. “I was given these to be fixed and told to bring them to you. I was also given some coins, they are in there.”

“Alright, let’s see.”

And like that things were good. Grillby studied the tools one at a time, silent, and scooped up the little coins Anamira had given her. Then he was moving away from her, taking the tools and putting them on a rack of wooden shelves holding an assortment of other things, perhaps brought by other customers. And then he returned.

“If you come back in two days they should be done. With spring coming everyone is getting their tools repaired, so we are quite busy.”

And there the good goes. Fix was starkly reminded that she was a stranger here. She deflated a little, but smiled in thanks.

“Ah. Thank you, no doubt I would have continued to make a complete idiot of myself.”

Smiling once more Fix pulled her hands back and stepped away from the blacksmith. But before she could go further Grillby leaned forward over the window counter.

“If you come pick up the tools I am sure I can convince Gola to give me the day off and, if you want, I can help you with your language problem.” Fix stared at the flame monster. He wasn’t the Grillby she knew, silent and welcoming, but she wouldn’t mind getting to know this Grillby.

“That would be great!” Fix gave him another grin “I’ll see you in two days then!”

“Indeed. Hmph, my name is Grillibera.”

Fix blinked at the spoken words, but Grillby (Grillibera? He has a full name?!) had signed along with his words. Narrowing her eyes, Fix replied.

“My…name…is Fixed System.” Grillby nodded, pleased.

“Until next time, Fixed System.” Nodding for her to repeat again.

“Until next time,” and here Fixed System _smirked,_ absolutely ready to cause some mischief. “Grillby”

And just like that the cool composure of the flame monster was gone and left behind was a flustering mess. Fix cackled as he tried to scold her with words before using Hands.

“Never call me that again. It is horrible!” He demanded.

Fix just danced away, half trying to remember where the doctor’s was, laughing.

“My name is Grillibera!” he shouted at her back.

Fix just laughed louder over her shoulder.


End file.
